


Start Of Something Big

by horrormoviesshoes



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: AU, Blood, Death, Detective!AU, Guns, M/M, Murder, Premonition dreams, Serial Killers, Strangulation, Suicide, There will probably be more tags as the story progresses, homicide detectives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:19:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrormoviesshoes/pseuds/horrormoviesshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a young woman is killed, NYPD homicide detective Miles Kane and his team investigate her murder. Soon, they realize there’s more to it than they suspected...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this AU in my head for over a year and spent a lot of time coming up with how I wanted to approach it. This plays out in an alternate universe, but like, in modern time, in 2015. (Timeline/Hairstyle wise, this isn't gonna be accurate, but this is an AU, so I can technically do what I want.) I have no actual knowledge about detectives, police, anything like that, but I do adore cop shows and mystery novels, so all my knowledge is based on those. I have no idea what's gonna play out in between, so tags are gonna change and more will be added, but I have a solid beginning and ending for this story. I'm not sure how it will go update wise, but I'm trying very hard to not let this turn into Curly Fries 2.0., so bear with me. I went paranoid rewriting this chapter this past month, so I figured I should post it before I went mad. Here it is, I hope you like it, please let me know what you think, this is like... my fanfic baby. Thanks!

Jennifer Sollisser stared straight ahead as she made her way from work to home. The clicking of her heels echoed through the streets, and when she turned the corner, there was no one to be seen. Third night this week. She knew it indicated she’d been hanging around the office for too long, again.

She’d recently been hired by Baker & Holton, a prestigious law firm in the heart of New York City. As a starting lawyer for Baker & Holton, Jennifer felt obligated to make name for herself and her company, and to work hard. As her mother always said “ _You didn’t study for all those years to blow it on the work floor!”_ She smiled faintly to herself as she thought of her mother, and made a mental note to ask her out to dinner, later this week.

The days in the office and court house were long, but payed off. Today, she won her fourth case in a row, and stayed late to finish the paperwork, and read through her new case file.

Wind suddenly caught her by surprise, and blew the long, brown strands of her hair in her face. She quickly swept the strands away and tucked them behind her ear, before she buried her nose in her scarf to block the cold, simultaneously inhaling the scent of her laundry detergent and perfume. She shivered, her pencil skirt not offering her enough warmth, the thin blouse under her coat not doing much for her, either. She picked up her pace, pressing her purse to her side, willing herself to walk faster.

With her mother on her mind again, she plucked her phone from her coat pocket and unlocked it swiftly. _Menu. Messages. New message. To: Mom_ , and with a little smile, she began to type as fast as her cold digits allowed it.

Jennifer was too lost in thought to notice the individual across the street.

The person was not just looking at her, they were following her, really. They were barely visible, with their dark clothes, and hoodie covering their head, and thereby their face. Their footsteps were barely audible, because they were walking in time with hers. They almost disappeared in the darkness that the night offers; a ghost.

And as Jennifer turned the corner, her follower crossed the street, following her still.

 _Hey, mom. Sorry I’ve been so swept up at work, I miss you. How about dinner tomorrow at Lucians? My treat. Love you._ With a little smile, Jennifer pressed _send_ and put her phone away, knowing her mother wouldn’t see her message until she woke up in the morning.

“Excuse me! Miss?” A voice behind her called out.

Startled, Jennifer turned around, quickly pressing her purse even closer to her side. Someone was running towards her. By the time the person reached her, they paused, catching their breath.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you this late at night,” the person began, “but I’m on holiday, I went out for a jog, and I’m afraid I’m lost.” It was followed by a low chuckle.

The person’s voice, was enough to make Jennifer sure the person talking to her was a man. She leaned back against the brick wall, and he shifted, got closer to her as he took his hood off. Her thoughts were confirmed when she saw his face and hair. Jennifer couldn’t help but think this blond stranger was rather handsome.

“By any chance, could you tell me which way to go to the Brockhem's Inn?” He asked, before flashing Jennifer a dazzling smile.

Jennifer couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re closer than you think. It’s right through this alley, actually,” she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, “and then straight ahead, a left, and then a right.”

The man laughed in response, nervously casting his eyes towards his feet. His head shot up again when he spoke once more.

“My apologies, I had no idea. Would you mind walking with me? I have a terrible sense of direction,” he explained. “Maybe I should give up jogging,” he added, flashing her that smile again as he smoothed his hair out before he scratched the back of his head, looking hopeful.

“It’s really just through the alley,” Jennifer replied. “Nothing much can go wrong—”

“Thomas,” he said quickly.

_Was she really getting hit on in the middle of the night, by some stranger who was lost in New York? Had she ended up in some bad, romantic comedy?_

Without giving it much thought, she offered the man a cheeky, “Nothing much can go wrong, _Thomas_.”

“I’ll buy you a drink at the Inn, how about that?” He asked her, the same hopeful look in his eyes.

Jennifer lit up. It had been long since she had the chance to accept the advances of a man, let alone from someone as handsome as Thomas. She twisted a strand of hair around her finger and opened her mouth to accept his offer, until she suddenly remembered her court appointment in the morning.

“I’m actually really busy tomorrow morning, maybe some other time. I could, eh… I could come by the Inn, sometime. For how lon—”

She was interrupted by Thomas laughing again. He was shaking his head. “That won’t do, Jennifer,” he said.

A shiver ran down Jennifer’s spine.

_How did he know her name?_

She couldn’t wonder any further; Thomas pulled his hood back up and grabbed her. He spun her around and clamped a gloved hand over her mouth, before she could let out any sound and dragged her towards the alley. Her limbs flailed as she tried to grab him, and her heels scraped the pavement, hoping to slow him down. All in vain. He was too strong, and dragged her away into the dark.

He pushed her up against the brick wall, one gloved hand next to her head, one gloved hand covering her mouth, pressing hard, hurting her. His body was pressed against hers, pinning her to the wall.

“Listen, Jennifer,” he said calmly. “The more you cooperate, the less this will hurt, alright sweetheart?” Jennifer nodded, tears of fear and pain pricking in her eyes. “Are you gonna be a good girl?” Jennifer nodded again, and slowly, the pressure was released from her mouth, before the hand left off completely.

She took a breath, contemplating what she would do. Screaming _definitely_ wouldn’t do. She panicked, not sure what this man was capable of. He was stronger than she thought him, that was for sure. He was fast, too. A runner. So was she, but when she remembered the shoes she wore, and found out only one of them was actually still on her, she realized fighting herself free and taking a run for it wouldn’t be an option either. Instead, she decided on trying to reason with him.

“A-alright, I’ll go with you. T-to the Inn,” she stuttered in a whisper.

Thomas just grinned at her. What was charming before, was now scaring her to death. “O-or, if you want my wallet, it’s in my purse, you can have it,” she tried. But, please…” She squirmed in his hold, but it was to no use.

“I’m not interested in your _money_ , Jennifer,” Thomas spoke. His hand came up to her cheek, caressing the skin, wiping away the tears. Jennifer turned her head away, to which Thomas grabbed her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’m not even _really_ interested in _you_.”

He eyed her up and down, before his gaze rested on what she thought to be her chest. “No, please,” she pleaded. She began to fight back, her hands trying to grab at him once more. “Not that, please.” Her hands grabbed at his biceps, trying to shove him away.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that kind of man,” he assured her. With a shove, he pushed her back against the wall, a little whine of pain escaping her lips “But it _will_ be over soon, Jennifer.”

“No, no, no. Please, please,” she wailed. “Please, you can take whatever you want, but please—” Her thoughts were going a thousand miles an hour.

_Scream. Scream, now._

She opened her mouth, sucked in a breath, and as if her attacker had read her mind, he put his hand over her mouth once more, clamping her nose between his thumb and index finger. Her scream landed muffled and barely audible in his hand.

“I thought we agreed you’d be a good girl, Jennifer.”

A hand landed on her throat, before the one on her mouth joined it. Thumbs pressed hard, hands squeezed tight. In a final attempt of hurting him, Jennifer tried to scratch him, but all she could reach was the fabric of his hoodie. She wasn’t strong enough to do anything anymore, and the pain and pounding in her ears took over. Her arms slowly fell to her sides, as she gulped for breath, and her eyes slipped closed.

It was a split second rush for him, and an eternity of panic and pain for Jennifer, before her body went limp, and her gurgling died down.

\--

“What do we know about the victim?” Detective Miles Kane asked. He lifted the yellow ‘ **DO NOT CROSS** ’ ribbon for detective Jamie Cook, who was walking by his side, and himself, before Jamie continued informing him.

“Jennifer Sollisser, 25-year-old lawyer,” he answered. “Baker & Holton,” he added, when Miles raised an eyebrow at the word ‘lawyer’. “She was found in this alley this morning, by a garbage man, John Goff, at 4:58am.”

“Cause of death?”

“Manual strangulation,” Jamie replied. “O’Malley’s got the details.”

Miles hummed. “Any witnesses?”

Jamie shook his head. “None, so far. ‘s a little early, though. Helders and myself will canvas the area for anyone who’s seen or heard anything suspicious.”

“Good,” Miles nodded. “I’ll talk to O’Malley.”

Jamie nodded briefly. “I’ve got a few questions for our garbage man,” he murmured, before he turned away.

Miles walked along, making his way towards the crime scene. This part was always hard. The first time you see the body, the first time you see the result of a terrible thing one human did to another. When the body came into Miles’ view, he took her in.

Young woman, like Jamie said. She was thin, and not very tall, about 5’3”, Miles guessed. Dark, purple bruises covered her neck, and parts of her face. The rest of her skin was post-mortem pale. Her dark, brown hair was brushed from her face, probably Nick’s doing. The pencil skirt she wore was ripped to mid-thigh, and one of her feet was bare, her shoe being discarded a few meters further.

Detective Matthew Helders looked up from his conversation with medical examiner Nicholas O’Malley, when he saw Miles was making his way over to them. Miles greeted them both, before focusing his attention on the body once more.

“What have we got here, Mal?” Miles asked, taking the gloves the M.E. offered him, and pulling them on. He crouched down next to the victim, taking a closer look.

“Fractured hyoid bone, some other bones in the neck were also damaged,” Nick began. “No fingerprints apparent, but I’ll see what I can pull once I get her back to the morgue. Jamie contacted Baker & Holton, they have her out their office by 12:14, so my guess is that she was on her way home when she was attacked.” Nick gestures for Miles to walk with him, and he showed Miles the thin stripes on the pavement, in front of the alley. “These indicate that the killer attacked her just outside of the alley, and then dragged her here to strangle her. Bruising on her back, and around her mouth indicate she fought back. No signs of sexual assault, though. Based on lividity and body temperature, I estimate the time of death window between 12:30 and 2, last night.”

Miles nodded. “So, no sexual assault. Was this a robbery gone wrong, perhaps?”

Nick shook his head, walking back to the victim. Miles frowned, followed him quickly, and was surprised when Matt showed him the victim’s belongings: Her purse, her wallet, her mobile phone, everything was still there.

“Everything of value was still on the body,” Matt confirmed.

Nick knelt and showed the woman’s hand. “Not even this ring was taken,” he pointed at the shiny ring around the middle finger of her hand. “And it’s an expensive one, I can tell you that much.”

Miles frowned. “Anything else?”

Nick’s gaze went from the body, back to Miles. “I hope to know more when I get her back to the morgue.”

Miles nodded and then turned his attention to Matt. “I want you and Cook to canvas the area. I’ll make sure Alexa pulls street-cam footage and gets me a list of all Sollisser’s clients. Let’s see if anyone might have held a grudge towards miss Sollisser. I’ll try to reach out to the family, bring them in to the precinct, ask them a few questions.”

Quickly, everyone went to work. Miles eyed the body once more, before tearing his gaze away and padding the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

\--

Nancy Sollisser was, like her daughter, a petite woman. Her face was puffy and red, tear streaked, and still, tears welled up and fell from her dark eyes. Her brown hair was a messy knot on top of her head, and her clothes were what Miles guessed to be her pyjamas. Miles wasn’t sure she was gonna be able to talk. Uniforms had just brought her in after they broke the news of her daughters murder to her. When Miles led her to his office, he sat her down, and placed a stool next to her. He asked the usual questions, and soon, the story of who Jennifer Sollisser was came pouring out.

Jennifer Sollisser was an only child. Her father died when Jennifer was young, 3 years old. Mother and daughter only had each other, but barely had time to see each other, although Jennifer had proposed a dinner at her favourite restaurant, tonight. The woman sobbed at the realization.

Miles placed a hand on her shoulder, and got her a cup of water, told her they had time. Mrs. Sollisser nodded thankfully, and after a few minutes, she calmed down enough to continue.

Jennifer was bright and hardworking, but not very good at socializing. She barely had any friends, liked to crawled up in her work instead of going out. She wanted to serve people who needed help; bring them justice. She’d even broken up with her boyfriend, Dan, who felt he came second after Jennifer’s work.

Miles stopped her there. “This Dan, what can you tell me about him, Mrs. Sollisser?”

Daniel Carve, so it turned out, was less bright and hardworking. He was a student, and met Jennifer on campus when she was in her final year. At some point, Dan quit school, but kept seeing Jennifer. Sometime after their one year anniversary, and Jennifer’s graduation, Jennifer broke things off with Dan, feeling like he stood in between her and her career. Dan was heartbroken, and followed Jennifer around when she went to work. Jennifer had even filed a restraining order against him.

That, and the fact that he still lived in the same apartment, was all the information Nancy Sollisser could offer about Dan. She wrote the address down, before Miles led her out.

It was a predictable lead; a cliché, really. The ex-boyfriend with the restraining order. But, Miles was more than happy to grasp it with both hands.

\--

“Mister Carve,” Miles greeted the man across from him. He'd just entered interrogation room 2, with Jamie following him.

Dan was as Miles expected from Nancy Sollisser’s story. He had short, black hair, and looked spent. But, what could you expect from a frantic frat party boy? Probably drank more beer than was good for him. Smelled of it, too, and Miles was pretty sure the stains on his blouse weren’t from water.

“My name’s detective Kane, this is my colleague, detective Cook. We’d like to ask you a couple of questions about Jennifer Sollisser, and the restraining order she filed against you.”

“Sure,” came a shaky reply.

“We know you couldn’t stay away from her, after she left you. There are about 5 reports of you breaking that order,” Jamie said, flipping through the pages of Dan’s dossier. “Following her to Baker & Holton, knocking on the door of her apartment…”

“Did you break the restraining order again, recently?” Miles asked.

Dan hesitated. “I… I love Jennifer,” he said. “I needed her to know how much I love her.”

“And when she didn’t accept your advances, you got up close and personal, Dan?” Miles slammed a photo of the crime scene on the table, and Dan’s eyes widened.

“That’s—Is that—Oh god, Jennifer is dead?” Dan gasped.

“Strangled, left for dead in an alley,” Jamie confirmed.

“And you think I did it?” Dan asked in disbelief. “Why would I kill the woman I _love_?”

“If I can’t have her, no one can have her?” Miles suggested. “You had to show her how much you loved her, after all. Did it make you angry, when she said she didn’t want you?”

“N-no. No, not like this. I didn’t do this,” he sobbed. “I swear to you, detective. I _did not_ kill Jennifer.”

“Then tell me, Dan, where were you, last night?” Miles asked. “Specifically, where were you between 12 and 2?”

Dan sniffed and rubbed the underside of his nose with the sleeve of his blouse. “I eh… I was at a party, in my apartment.”

Miles exchanged a look with Jamie, and Jamie nodded. Both men stood up and gathered their papers.

“Well, then I’m sure someone can verify that for you, mister Carve,” Miles said. “Until then, we’ll have keep you here.”

\--

After finishing a phone call with Baker & Holton, Miles’ evening was spent in his office, with Matt and Jennifer Sollisser’s case folders. Three hours ago, after taking Dan Carve to a holding cell, Jamie went out to check Dan’s alibi with his roommates.

Miles threw the case folder he was reading on the table in front of him. “Nothing,” he sighed.

“It’s as if this woman was the perfect lawyer. Everything is perfectly filed, no cases were high-profile, despite her working at Baker & Holton,” Matt said.

Miles nodded. “She was new, according to Baker’s assistant. The high-profile stuff is saved for assholes like Brandon Baker and Rod Holton themselves.”

A silence followed.

“That was not said by Baker’s assistant, by the way.”

Matt snorted, his eyes back at his papers, before finishing the last page and throwing it on top of Miles’ folder. “Nothing even indicated her clients were unhappy with her work...”

“Where’s Cook on the ex-boyfriend?” Miles wondered out loud, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. “Carve has to be our guy.”

“Unfortunately not, mate,” Jamie entered the room, folding his coat over his arm. “Just spoke with Dan Carve’s roommate, at his apartment. There _was_ a party going on there last night, at least 10 people can account for him to be there between 10 p.m. and 4 a.m.”

Miles got up, dragging his hand over his face, before saying, “These were his friends, they could be lying for him—”

“Kane, I’ve seen photos... I can get Alexa to check them, but I’m fairly certain Dan Carve couldn’t have killed Jennifer Sollisser. He’s not our guy.”

Miles groaned. “Alright, good work for today. Get Alexa those photos anyway, let’s hope she has better news in the morning.”

\--

Alexa Chung opened the laptop she used daily, on this job. She was in charge of pulling street-cam footage and pulling records, Credit Card information or bank withdrawals, from victims and suspects. Their ‘IT-gal’ as she referred to herself.

“After confirming the photos from Dan Carve’s frat party weren’t tampered with, I pulled Jennifer’s phone records. Nothing unusual there, only Baker & Holton, her mother, and occasionally, Dan Carve,” the tall brunette began. “Her e-mails are strictly about work, and her bank account shows no unusual activity.”

“Any luck on street-cams?”

“I checked them, and tracked Jennifer’s way from Baker & Holton, to the crime scene,” Alexa continued. “A lot of them were placed in the wrong angle, giving me no good look on either of them, so they were useless. I do think the killer followed Jennifer from Baker & Holton to where she was killed. I can see a dark figure that turning corners a few times, following her from across the street.” She showed the detectives the footage she talked about, before continuing. “One camera, however, gave us a good look at the attack.” She clicked a couple of times, and the street in front of the crime scene appeared on the big screen in front of her, but they could barely make it out. “Unfortunately, it’s quite dark, so we can’t get a good look at them.”

Miles rubbed the bridge of his nose. _Of course…_ “Can you play the clip for us, Alexa?” He asked her.

She nodded, and clicked _play_. They watched as Jennifer walks alone, until a hooded person comes up behind her. They seem to be in conversation. Jennifer leans against the brick, the killer turns his back towards the camera. Alexa pauses the clip when the killer takes his hood off, but nothing really changes.

“Can’t see much, but the suspect’s definitely male, based on built,” Matt murmured, narrowing his eyes. “Blond, I think.”

Miles agreed with a soft hum, and watched as Jennifer points her thumb towards the alley. Everything seems to be fine, until the stranger bows his head, suddenly puts his hood back on and overpowers the woman, while simultaneously putting a gloved hand over the woman’s mouth. Jennifer’s flailing arms, along with the darkness of the video, make it impossible to make out his face, even when he’s facing the camera. He drags her into the alley, Jennifer’s feet the last thing to disappear in the shadow that the buildings offer.

“That’s the last you see,” Alexa explained, as she paused the video. “The killer left the alley on the other side. No camera’s there, unfortunately.”

“Can you zoom?” Miles inquires. “When he turns toward the camera, I mean?” He clarifies.

“I’ve tried everything, detective. I’ve enhanced, made it brighter, changed the contrast…nothing works.”

Miles gnawed at his bottom lip. “Okay then, good work, Alexa, and thank you,” he said to the brunette with a small nod.

“So, our suspect’s a white male, with blond hair. He’s approximately 6 feet tall, probably a little shorter, and dressed in all black. That’s basically every man in New York.” Jamie scoffed. “There’s not much more we can go on.”

Miles knew Jamie was right. Just as he meant to propose to expand the witness search, his phone rang. Miles fumbled for his phone in his pocket and pulled it free. ‘ _M.E.’_ the screen read.

“O’Malley, please, give me something,” he said as he answered.

Nick sighed on the other side of the line. “The killer wore gloves. There’s traces of talcum powder on her, talc powder that is used in surgical gloves, or the ones we use at crime scenes. So, no fingerprints on the body. There’s also no hair or DNA other than Jennifer’s own. The crime scene came up empty, too. Leads me to believe we’re dealing with a professional, here, Miles.”

Miles kept still, his brain trying to piece together what was being said to him. They had nothing…

“Kane?”

Miles blinked, before muttering back, “Yes, alright. Thanks, I’ll be in touch,” and ending the call.

Everything was coming up empty. Nancy Sollisser couldn’t help them further. No witnesses. No street-cam footage. Not a trace of DNA… He needed a lead. And soon.

\--

Joshua Homme was nothing if not intimidating. The 40-something blond was quite the figure, standing 6’3” tall, his uniform a tight fit around a muscled body. Served him well when he was a cop. Served him well as captain of the precinct now. He was strict, but fair, and an incredible drinking partner after office hours.

“Kane, Cook, Helders,” he barked. “My office, now.”

But when he called out, you better hurry.

The three detectives dropped their work and followed quickly. When the door to the captain’s office closed, he cut right to the chase.

“There’s been a second murder,” the captain said immediately. “Another young woman: Hannah Smith, late twenties, brunette, kindergarten teacher, found in an alley this morning. O’Malley’s at the scene, and he confirms the injuries are the same: Bruising on and around the neck, a broken hyoid bone, no fingerprints, because the killer wore gloves. This killer used the same M.O. as on Jennifer Sollisser. The fact there are no traces of DNA, and nothing stolen from the body makes us quite certain we’re dealing with the same killer.”

“What do we do?” Jamie dared to ask.

“Alexa is running more street-cam footage and there’s an expanded witness search going on. Sollisser’s clients and colleagues have been questioned. Some of them mention Carve, but he alibies out. Smith’s family and co-workers are being questioned, but… this doesn’t look good, detectives.”

Matt got up. “We’ll get to work immediate—“

“Sit, Helders, there’s more.”

Matt flopped back.

“O’Malley informed me on some suspicions. A friend of his, an old classmate, is helping on a case the Los Angeles Police Department is working on. He asked for O’Malley’s help, that’s why these cases stood out for him. Three women have been killed there. All victims are in their twenties, strangled, with no DNA on the body, no witnesses. They’ve got nothing to go on.”

“You think the killer moved from Los Angeles to New York?” Miles asked. “Why would he?”

Homme shrugged. “Maybe he’s afraid of getting caught? Maybe the police is getting too close? I don’t know, Kane. All I know is that LAPD is sending in another detective, and I want you to partner up with him.”

“Sir,” Miles protested. “I assure you, that’s not needed.”

Miles didn’t like people invading their precinct. Not after Karolina Hudson from the FBI turned his office upside down, not after Scotland Yard sent the useless Colin McGrath, and certainly not some LAPD detective he didn’t even need.

“I don’t want to hear it, Kane. The LAPD have already authorized his stay. Name’s Alexander Turner, he’s been working the cases in L.A.”

“What’s his time?” Miles asked, irritated.

“His time, detective?” Homme asked, not sure what Miles meant.

“His time on the job! How long has he been with homicide?”

Homme paused. “A year.”

 _Certainly_ not some LAPD detective who has been in homicide for only a _year_.

Miles threw his hands in the air. “You’re bringing a rookie to this case, sir?”

“LAPD Captain Jung tells us Turner’s got an exceptional eye for detail, and linking evidence. All his homicide cases have been solved, and now he’s certain the killer is on the move,” Homme explained calmly. “Rookie or not, Jung thinks he’s a valuable asset. Turner knows this case inside and out, he insisted on coming to bring this killer to justice.”

“Josh,” Miles jumped up.

“Miles,” the captain replied, standing up, too. He towered over the 5’9” Scouser. “I know how you feel about this, detective. But my hands are tied. The sooner we catch this bastard, the sooner the LAPD will want their detective back.”

Miles sighed. “I—”

“Are we clear?”

“Loud and clear, sir.”

Homme nodded. “You’re dismissed, detectives. Get me something solid.”

Miles sauntered out the captain’s office last, his mind wrapping around all the news.

 _A new victim. A new detective. Alexander Turner_ , he thought _. Rookie, LAPD detective._

_My new partner on a probable serial killer case…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Turner arrives and sheds light on the case from an LAPD point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit later than I wanted, but here's chapter two! Few things I felt I should mention: I'm aware that they might be a bit young to have been working with the police for this long, but let's just pretend that's not the case, for the sake of the story. I'm sorry this might not be all too eventful, but there's plenty of that to come on the upcoming chapters. Regardless, I hope you all like this. Thanks for all the positive feedback and kudos, it's much appreciated <3!

Miles was expecting him, but still found himself surprised when detective Alexander Turner emerged from the elevator and walked into the precinct. Miles mentally cursed himself for not checking out Turner’s file properly.

_Was this a detective, or a school boy?_

It was definitely him, though, Miles was certain. He sauntered in, his boots steadily tapping against the wooden floor with each step. He carried a box with him. Case files, Miles assumed. His hair was dark and quite long, and it curled around his ears. A fringe covered his forehead, and he visibly tried to blow some of the hair out of his eyes.

_Could he even see?_

He was clad in dark jeans, and loose shirt with a denim jacket over it. He was wearing sunglasses. Inside. The man couldn’t be much taller than Miles, and the closer he got, the more Miles believed him to be on the smaller side.

“Detective Miles Kane,” he said, once he reached Miles and put the box on the floor. Still looking down, he took his sunglasses off and tucked them in the small, square chest pocket of his jacket. When he focused his gaze back to Miles, it revealed two big, but tired, brown eyes. “You’ve an impressive reputation.” The man talked like he walked: slow. He almost drawled the words, really, and he was British, too. Probably from the North, like Jamie, Matt and Nick.

Miles smiled weakly at the remark, and chose not to comment. “Welcome to our precinct, and welcome to six, as we say,” he said instead, referring to the floor the homicide department was at. He stuck his hand out, and the LAPD detective shook it with a firm grip and a nod of his head. Surprised, Miles squeezed back. “You’re Alexander, I take it?”

“Please, call me Alex,” the detective replied. “Where can I leave me stuff?” He pointed at the box by his feet.

“I’ll show you.”

Miles led Alex to the room in the back of the hallway. “This is my— our office,” Miles explained with a stutter. “This is your desk,” he pointed at the empty desk across from his own. “You can put your stuff there and in the meantime, I’ll get the paperwork you still have to sign.”

\--

“So,” Alex began, drawing the word out, “what’s up with the whole of Yorkshire and the one Scouser, here on six?” He tapped the back of his pen against his transfer paper; a paper finalizing their arrangement of having Alex work for the NYPD, until the case was closed. Solved or not.

Once Alex had arrived, news travelled fast, and one by one, detectives dropped by to introduce themselves. Clearly, Alex hadn’t missed the Northern accents that swirled around six.

“Pure coincidence. We didn't start together or something,” Miles said. “When I came here three years ago, O’Malley was already here. Cook came about half a year after me, and Helders came from narcotics to homicide half a year after that. Been a solid team since. The captain always jokes around how he’s outnumbered by British men here.”

Alex smiled shortly, before bringing the pen down on the paper and signing beside the small ‘x’. “Bet it drives him mad, having to hear those accents all day.” He put the pen down and leaned back in the chair, before brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“I like to think he finds it endearing,” Miles grinned.

“I _don’t_ ,” Homme said from behind Miles. He stood leaning against the doorframe, startling Miles, who almost fell off his chair. Homme turned his attention to Alex. “Turner, you can leave the form on my desk. The conference room is ready for you, so you can prepare.”

Alex pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at Miles’ squirminess, before nodding shortly at Homme. “Will do, sir. Thank you.”

Homme nodded, before patting Miles on the shoulder. “Try and keep a balance, Kane. We need you on this case without broken limbs.”

“O-of course, sir,” Miles said, jumping up from his chair and walking over to the box Alex had brought with him, feverishly looking through its contents. He quickly pretended to scan through some pages of a dossier he pulled out, until he was sure Homme had left.

“Could you put that back? I need to take that to that conference room.” Alex was suddenly by his side, and motioned at the dossier Miles had clutched in his fists.

“Three victims in L.A., right?”

“I’m doing that briefing this afternoon, I’ll explain everything then, yeah?” Alex replied. “I’ve some highlights of the whole investigation, some details your people might not know of yet,” he spoke, gently taking the dossier from Miles’ hands.

“First time?” Miles hummed.

“Excuse me?”

“Doing a briefing,” Miles clarified. “On this scale.”

“Hardly,” Alex said with a dry chuckle.

“I was just wondering, because you’ve only been—”

Before he could finish, Alex had turned towards him, brows furrowed. “Listen, Kane," his tone had turned cold. "I get it, you think I don’t know what I’m doing, because I’ve been with homicide for just a year, but this isn’t my first day on the job, yeah? We need to work together on this, whether or not you like me, or think me qualified. I know you closed that big case last year, and that that earned you respect from everyone in the field, but don’t get cocky. I’ve read your file. We’re the same age, and I’ve been with the police just as long as you.” Alex’s eyes turned stern as he picked the box from his desk. “And I can assure you, detective, I know this case better than you do.”

Miles blinked a few times, stunned as the man left the room.

**\--**

Miles stood in the back of the conference room and stared at the board up front. His eyes drifted to Alexa and the LAPD detective in front of the room. Alexa was chatting to him, pointing at her laptop and then at the screen. Alex nodded, and stuck a USB flash drive in the side of the laptop. A series of photographs appeared on the screen. Three, young women stared back at Miles, names scribbled under it, ‘deceased’ written in red cursive.

The L.A. victims.

More and more members of the precinct entered the room, and soon, everyone was seated, eagerly awaiting the new information. Miles took a seat in between Matt and Jamie, who immediately began an interrogation-like conversation.

“So,” Matt began. “Alexander Turner. Goes by Alex. 29 years old, born in High Green, Sheffield, England, and he’s now an LAPD detective. Used to work vandalism and robbery, until he started as a homicide detective a year ago,” he rattled. “How is it going, working with the puppy?”

Miles sighed at the nickname, before he replied. “Dandy.”

“You don’t sound very convincing,” Jamie remarked. “What happened?”

“At first it was fine, and then we… we had a… a minor disagreement,” Miles settled on. “I think I insulted him. Great start of a partnership, don’t you think?”

Jamie gave him a small smile. “It’ll be okay, Miles. You just have to get to know each other, is all. I’m sure you’ll like each other.”

“He doesn’t need me to like him, Jamie. I don’t need him to like me, but… yeah, we just need to work together, so we can solve this case and get it over with,” Miles sighed. “I won’t even have to know anything about him—”

“What we _do_ know about him,” Matt interrupted, “is that he’s a good looking lad. I mean, not for me, obviously.” He pointed at his wedding ring. “Breana would have me head. But…” he drew the word out and cast a meaningful glance at Miles.

“Shut up,” Miles elbowed Matt in the ribs. “He’s not _that_ good looking. Besides, I’m—

“Not in for the hassle that comes with feelings, and relationships,” Matt finished his sentence with a sigh. “I know. You’ve said that since I met you.”

“Actually, I was gonna say ‘not going to make assumptions about detective Turner’s likings,’” Miles continued. “But that, too. Now, be quiet.” He pointed towards the detective in front of the room, who was clearly ready to begin.

“Could I have your attention, please?” Alex called out. Gradually, the chatter in the room died down. “Good afternoon, detectives. My name’s detective Alex Turner, and I’m consulting on this case,” he explained. “This afternoon, I’ve been tasked with briefing you all about what we’ve learned about this case back in LA.”

Miles zoned out, knowing he could filter the important information. He also knew he’d have to read the case files later. He didn’t filter the new detective out entirely, though. He did that on purpose, reading in between the lines and catching little quirks about Alex. Like how he’d trail off a ridiculous amount of times, gestured wildly, and stumbled over his words as he spilled everything he’d investigated so far. Every now and then he’d brush the hair from his forehead, only to tangle his own hands in his hair to shake it up again. When he didn’t speak, he cocked his head at the screen and pouted his lips, contemplating if he got all the information down. Each time, it was followed by an almost inaudible “ah,” or “reyt,” and another fact would tumble from his lips. Alex then called for a small break, they would continue in five.

Miles made a mental summary.

One month, three murders. Julie Abbott, Margret Young and Linda Dowell. Young women, between their 20s and 30s. Strangled by hand. No evidence on the crime scene. “You know the drill” as Alex had said.

And truthfully, they did. The second murder scene came up empty, too. Alexa was working on surveillance footage and finding connections, trying to tie the victims together. “Nothing so far,” she had sighed, when Miles called her this morning. He cursed, hoping he could offer Turner something solid and work him back to LA. Then, he’d assured Alexa his cursing wasn’t directed at her, but was merely out of frustration.

Suddenly, he felt warmth press against his fingertips, and he smiled thankfully at Jamie, who pushed a plastic cup of coffee in his hand. He became faintly aware of the slow drawl of Alex’s voice filling the room again, announcing a profile of their killer was next up. Alex described him nearly the same way Jamie had a few days ago – “Suspects a white male, approximately 6 feet tall, maybe a little shorter.” After that, though, he provides them with a fact that surprises Miles, and snaps him back.

“The truly interesting part, though, is that the killer uses disguises.”

“Disguises?” Miles wondered out loud.

Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Ah, detective Kane, good to have your attention back.” Miles’ cheeks turned pink at the remark, and he mentally cursed himself for it.

Alex turned on his heels and scrambled for the files from the box on the table. He pulled a series of photos from it. “Weren’t as technological with these photos…,” he mumbled. “These are of surveillance cameras. Here,” he held a photo up, “we see our killer at the first crime scene.” The he held up a second photo. “And here we have him on the second crime scene…”

Miles frowned at the photos. They looked as if they were two completely different men. One had long, blond curls, one had dark hair. One was dressed in a suit, holding a briefcase, one was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans.

Alex put one photo down, and fumbled for a third one on the box. He held it up, and it showed a bald man in an overall with a white shirt under it.

“How do you know this is the same person?” Matt asked. “Can’t be different people working in a group?”

“Good question, detective Helders,” Alex nodded. “I thought the same thing, until we compared M.O.’s; his way of killing, the victims he chooses… All three women were around 25 years old, they were killed in alleys, always by manual strangulation. Our LAPD M.E. compared the bruising patters on each victim, and concluded that he couldn’t tell who killed them, but that he was certain it was the same person’s doing.”

“Anything that ties the victims together?” Alexa asked. She was seated in the front row, and balanced a small small notebook in her lap as she chewed at the back of her pen.

“Unfortunately not,” Alex sighed. “It’s been a month since these murders took place, we’ve had nothing until… well, until the first New York murder,” he added sheepishly. “I take it you haven’t found anything either?”

“No,” Alexa admitted softly.

Alex nods at her with a warm, soothing smile. The briefing seems to be over, until captain Homme’s voice floats up. “Detective Turner, why do you think the killer moved from L.A. to New York?”

“Not sure,” Alex answered. “Maybe he’s afraid of getting caught? Maybe the police in L.A. were getting too close?” Miles nearly laughs when he hears Alex almost echoing Homme’s words from a few days before. “Maybe the killer moved here, couldn’t resist his urges and decided to continue his deeds… Would play more to the psychological sides of this case. But that’s something for the official psych report,” he concluded.

When Homme nods in agreement, Alex swiped over the screen, and all notes and photos of the victims floated back into the small folder icon at the bottom of the screen. He then gathered his papers and put them back in the box he brought with him. “That was all, thank you for your attention. Any further questions?”

 _School boy_ popped up in Miles’ mind again at the way Alex ended his presentation, until he remembered their earlier exchange of words, and the word disappeared as quickly as it came.

No questions came, the detectives more eager to race to the coffee machine. Miles returned to his and Alex’s office, flopping down in his chair and leaning back, closing his eyes, information swirling through his head. He could almost see the red strings behind his eyes, linking information, puzzling it out.

All until the door creaked and Alex entered, box in hands. He dropped it on Miles’ desk. Miles eyes shot open, eyeing the box first, and then the detective. The latter grinned and muttered, “Your homework, detective Kane.”

\--

Evening came sooner than Miles expected. He had finished half of the dossiers Alex had taken with him from LA, while Alex had quietly worked on paperwork across from him. In the hours that had passed, not a word was exchanged between the two detectives. Miles felt like he owed Alex an apology for judging him, he was just contemplating whether or not to articulate his feelings. Alex, however beat him to it.

“Listen, mate,” he sighed, putting his paperwork down. “About earlier... I was a bit quick to get me feelings hurt. I know you didn't mean it in like, a nasty way, I just... look up to you, for all that you've done, you know? I hope you see me as more than just a rookie.” He offered Miles a small smile and pink cheeks at his confession.

Miles returned that smile almost immediately, infected by his colleague. “It's alright,” he assured him. “I shouldn't have made assumptions that quickly. You came with a strong briefing; you're a good detective, Alex, no doubt. Really have that eye for detail everyone keeps tellin' me 'bout.”

“Thank you,” is all Alex said in return

Miles is confused for which part he’s thanking him, before concluding that it may be for all of it. For a while, silence fills the room again. This time it's more comfortable, and the detectives exchange another small smile before they get back to their work. Pretty soon, though, the silence was broken again. This time, it was Jamie’s doing. His head peaked around the door as he said,

“Turner, Kane, time to go, done enough work for t'day.”

Miles sighed, stretched his legs out under his desk and then yawned.

“Matt and I are off to Shutterbugs, care to join us?” Jamie asked.

Miles smiled and nodded. “’Course! Could use it, after today.”

Jamie grinned, and then turned his gaze towards Alex, who was still hauled over the paper on his desk. “You coming, Turner?”

Alex snapped up, blinking at Jamie a few times before rasping, “‘m sorreh?”

Jamie laughed. “Shutterbugs; pub down the street. D’you wanna tag along?”

“Not tonight, mate,” Alex sighed, getting up and gathering his papers. “Plane landed early, I’m knackered, if I’m honest. And I still have to unpack,” he groaned as if he only just realized that last fact now.

Jamie nods, “Another time, then,” he settled on, and then disappeared again. Miles and Alex packed their stuff, and finally, Alex flicked the switch on the wall down, turning the light that illuminated the small space off.

“So, where are you staying? Did LAPD get you a nice hotel?” Miles inquired as he locked the office door.

Alex huffed. “I had to find me own place here, mate. No fancy stay in a hotel for me. Luckily, I have an eh, old friend who lives in New York. Jane’s place is big enough for both of us.”

Miles raised an eyebrow at the female name. “And old _friend_ , hmm?” He asked with a grin.

“She’s me ex-girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why in the hell would you put yourself through _that_?” Miles asked, pausing to look at the other detective. Then he narrowed his eyes. “Or are you planning on getting laid?” He grinned.

Alex snorted, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “We separated as friends, yeah? She’s been one of my best mates since. I’m not interested in her... not like that, at least.”

“Why?” Miles blurted out.

Alex cocked his head, and then straightened before he answered. “Turns out I’m not as straight as I thought I was,” he said simply, shrugging and turning his back to Miles. “See you tomorrow, detective Kane,” he called out, making his way to the elevator, leaving Miles baffled.

It became more and more apparent that Miles had read Alex Turner completely wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two weeks without news, the detectives on floor six are desperate for leads. At the same time, Miles struggles with present and past cases, and other things that unwillingly occupy his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3! Things finally start moving a little more. Thanks again for all the nice comments, both on here and on Tumblr. This one is an absolute pleasure to write!

It had been two weeks since they’d had anything to investigate at six. Without evidence, it was hard to find new leads. To make matters worse, a virus had terrorized the IT department. One by one, computers had become infected with a virus that had nearly sabotaged the entire investigation. Alexa had been unable to disable it, so all computers had to be sent to an IT-department higher up. No computers also meant they couldn’t put their two victims in their databases.

Today, Homme had given Miles a day off. He found, however, that it was hard to let this case go. Miles usually took his work home. Sometimes literally. He had taken boxes from the evidence room home in the past. Worked until far after midnight to get to the bottom of every case. Sometimes not so literally. It would cause him to lay awake at night, tossing and turning, puzzling evidence together in his mind. Sometimes, when he did catch some sleep, he even dreamt about it. These days, his new partner also began popping up in his dreams more frequently. A fact he thought he’d better ignore.

Today was a toss and turn day, and Miles left his apartment ridiculously early to go for a run and clear his mind. Not that it worked. Not even with the music blasting from his earbuds he was able to let any aspect of his work go, and when fringe covered, brown eyes occupied his mind, he thought it best to return home to find other ways of distraction.

Like cooking. Breakfast, to be more specific. Miles’ stomach rumbled at the thought of a proper breakfast, one he hadn’t had in a few days. He was mainly living off of lunches at the precinct and take out dinner late in the evening. Nearly embarrassingly excited, he opened his fridge and cabinets, and got to work.

When he was nearly done, his phone rang from behind him. Blindly, he fumbled for it, and answered it with a quick, "'lo?" his phone balanced between his head and his shoulder as one hand clutched the handle of a steel pan and the other a plate. Skillfully, he slid the bacon and eggs he was preparing onto the plate.

"Miles? It's Alex." His voice was a cool drawl from the other end of the line.

"Hi," Miles replied, a little surprised. He made a mental note to check the caller I.D. before answering the phone, before asking, "Any news?"

"I know it’s your first day off in like, a week, but…we have a third victim.”

And so New York levelled with L.A.

“I’ll text you the address" Alex was short, matter-of-factly, and then he hung up.

_Maybe this was how Alex reacted to murder when it had just happened?_

Slightly confused, Miles left his bacon and eggs for cold, hurriedly pulled his boots on, and grabbed his coat, racing to the address Alex had texted him.

\--

Once Miles arrived, the other detective was already waiting, smoking a cigarette. When he saw Miles, he threw it on the pavement, and stomped it out with his boot. “Kane,” he greeted with a nod.

Miles nodded back. “Tell me, what do we have?”

Alex began walking, and Miles followed him quickly. “Victim’s name is Laura Benjamin. She’s a 27-year-old store owner. She was having drinks at the bar behind which she was killed. Bartender noticed her leaving around 2, so your M.E. Nick estimates she was killed between 2 and 3 last night. Everything else is the same as with the other two. She was strangled, there are no fingerprints, and there’s no other evidence. Still, Nick’s going to send trace evidence over to Alexa, to analyze any shred of evidence that might be present. After her computer is fixed, of course," he added quicky. "I've put Jamie on witeness search. Matt will contact the family later.”

They reached the crime scene, and Nick and Matt were already waiting for them. Nick was scribbling down a few notes, while Matt took photos of the victim, and of the crime scene. Miles looked down, and noticed the victims neck considerably more blue, in comparison to their other victims. He gave Nick a look of question, before asking, “He’s getting more aggressive, huh?”

“Her larynx was _crushed_ ,” Nick said. “Benjamin fought back, but that that couldn’t result in a crushed larynx. You’d need more force.”

“So, we’re closing in on him, right?” Miles concluded, turning back to Alex. “I mean, maybe he’s frustrated. We haven’t caught him, but we’re getting close, and it irritates him. So, he puts his aggression in his killings.”

Alex nodded. “Could definitely be the case,” he agreed, a little reluctantly.

“What, you don’t think so?”

Alex gulped before speaking. “If… If I were to profile this killer, using this murder, I’d say he’s getting cocky, not irritated. He knows we’re after him now, so he waited a while before killing again, and now he wants to show off. Wants us to know how big and strong he is, and how much smarter. It’s a good thing.”

“Excuse me?” Miles blinked at him. “This woman was violently murdered after an evening at a bar, I wouldn’t call that ‘a good thing’.”

Alex glanced at Miles, before he cast his eyes at his shoes and chuckled. “We need him to get cocky, Miles. When they get cocky, they make mistakes, and that’s how we catch—” He stopped mid-sentence and looked behind Miles. “Cook! Hey, Jamie!” He yelled. “Excuse me, Kane,” he said, before jogging towards Jamie. “Did you get a chance to…” Alex’s voice faded out the further he ran.

Matt was suddenly by Miles’ side. He whistled. “Homme and Jung weren’t lying,” he said, impressed. “Turner’s good.”

“Yeah,” Miles breathed.

\--

Back at the precinct, Miles stared at the murder board. From the corner of his eye, he caught Alex coming his way, two mugs in his hand. Once he reached Miles, Alex offered him one of the mugs.

“I hope I remembered it right,” Alex murmured. “Whatcha doing?”

“Thinking,” Miles answered. A small smile crept up his face when he took a sip of his coffee and tasted the hint of cinnamon he always took with it.

“Listen, this morning… I didn’t mean to take over your investigation, Miles. I’m just…” he gestured with his hands, sighing when he couldn’t find the words.

“You’re passionate,” Miles helped him.

Alex smiled, his cheeks turning pink. “I suppose so, yes.”

Miles had noticed Alex was different during the investigation - the crime scene visits, the briefings, working through evidence – than he was when he was alone with the man. He was almost shy, whispering his words, muttering to himself, blushing.

_“_ _I just... look up to you.”_

The words swirled through Miles’ head again. It occurred to him plenty of times this past few weeks that he hadn’t given the detective a fair chance, and that that might be the cause of Alex shying away from him. He found he desperately wanted to take his words and actions that had led up to that back.

“It’s good to be passionate, Alex. We’re a team, yeah? One day you do more work, the next it’s me who does that, then it’s Matt. It’s collective,” Miles said. “Doesn’t mean your insight isn’t incredibly impressive, though.”

Alex shuffled his feet and cast his eyes back at the murder board. It was silent or a while, before Alex spoke again, “So is yours, Miles. I’ve read a lot about last year, you know. It’s impressive how you handled—”

“That case wasn’t everything.” Miles snarled, unwantedly snapping at him. He continued in a softer tone. “The media made it seem like… we did so well, like we were heroes,” he scoffed. “We weren’t. I weren’t.”

Alex stared at him for a while. “Tell me more about it?” He asked, a little hesitantly, searching Miles’ face for his opinion on sharing this story with him. “The unedited version.”

Miles stared back at Alex. In his place, Miles searched Alex’s face as well. For the first time since their partnership, Miles studied this part of his partner intently. Alex brushed his hair from his face and looked at Miles curiously. Miles found a soft face, with a nose that was slightly too big, and eyes that appeared caring, not judging.

Miles contemplated his choices. Telling Alex about this case would mean revealing a big part of himself to someone he’d only know for a shocking 14 days at best. He bit his lip, but realized his doubt was overruled by _trust_. He nearly shuddered at that word, but there was something about his new colleague that made him feel at ease. May it be his genuine skill for the job, may it be his personality. Maybe this was his chance to let Alex know that…

“You don’t have to—” Alex began.

“It started off so blissfully small,” Miles said at the same time. If he was honest, he surprised himself with actually speaking, and judging by his face, Alex was just as surprised. “Cook and I consulted on a case. Jamie was still my partner, back then, and since we had experience on these cases, they asked us to profile a child kidnapper,” he explained. “It was supposed to be just consulting.”

Alex nodded. “What happened then?” He asked, his voice soft.

“We ended up staying with that task force when the kidnapper case became a homicide; first kid showed up dead,” Miles smiled wryly. “I had worked homicide for some time, Alex, but… it’s different when it’s a child. Small, defenseless. Was just 4 years old. Still hunts me dreams,” Miles sniffed. “He, eh, he had taken two more kids. And at that point, this had become a high-profile case. I were head of investigation, Jamie my right hand. We cared for the case, and we knew it inside out, so we were an easy pick. We chased him, up until there were three houses that came up empty. We’d lost three months, but then we got access to FBI databases, and obviously that made us hopeful. Pretty soon, we’d tracked him down again. Well, Jamie did. He did a great job on that case,” Miles continued, praising his colleague. “We were about to invade the place: A house in the suburbs, the children were hidden in the basement.” Miles paused and took another sip of his coffee.

“You alright?” Alex asked.

Miles ignored his question, and continued. “So, we’re about to go in, right? About to break the door in and flood the place with detectives to save these children from this absolute nightmare. All until, I realize I had forgotten my bulletproof vest. ‘Hold on, guys, gotta get my vest!’ I can still hear myself say it… I went back to the car, pulled the vest on, got back into formation. It was a second – I swear, a _second_ – before Jamie kicked the door in, when we heard gun shots, two of them, and I knew it was over. We got the killer out. Joseph Murphy. He got life in prison, died last month, but…” Miles trailed off, sputtering a bit, before giving up and throwing the contents of his mug back with a somewhat sour face.

Alex didn't reply immediately. Instead, he took in Miles' slumped figure, before he realized what Miles was thinking. "Miles, it wasn’t your fault,” he stammered quickly. “Even if you would’ve been prepared, he would’ve still done it. The time was too short, you did everything you could.”

"But it wasn't enough," Miles whispered. “And then press came. It was so damn hard to have to stay professional, and say what people want to hear. To have people call you a hero, but to feel that dread and guilt.” He was saying too much, he realized. Tears pricked behind his eyes, and he quickly glanced back down. “I messed up. I made a mistake, a big one, and it cost lives. Innocent children. Devastated parents. Parents who won’t be able to see their babies grow up. See them graduate, get married, have a chance at life. All because I forgot something as simple as a bulletproof vest. That’s a rookie mistake…”

Alex's hand landed on Miles' shoulder. “You weren’t the one who took that chance from them, Miles. Murphy did. It wasn't your fault,” he repeated, squeezing Miles' shoulder briefly. Miles turned his head, and met Alex’s eyes once more. They were warm, kind and reassuring. Alex released Miles from his grip and carefully took Miles’ coffee mug out of his hand. “I’ll make us coffee, we’ll go over evidence… We’ve got this one.”

Miles grabbed Alex by the wrist. “I… I can’t fail again, Alex. I.. I can’t…” He stuttered, and then he hiccupped. Quickly he looked away in embarrassment.

“We’ll get him, I promise,” Alex assured him. He gently pried Miles’ hand from his wrist, before heading towards the coffee machine, leaving Miles with his thoughts.

Miles could barely admit to himself he missed the company.

\--

That afternoon, not another word was said about the Murphy case. Miles suspected Alex had picked up on the fact that he wasn’t talkative about it, and Miles was thankful for that. Silently, they worked from behind their desks.

That same afternoon, Alexa’s head peeked around the door of the Kane-Turner office. “I’ve put the data of the victims in,” she announced, “ _finally_ ,” she added, slightly annoyed at the delay the virus had caused. “Wanna come and take a look?”

Miles and Alex nearly ran after Alexa, speeding towards her office. They found her behind her laptop, as usual, moving her fingers over the keyboard at a godlike speed.

“Talk to me,” Miles said with a laugh. “What have you got, Chung?”

“Well, _Kane_ ,” Alexa smiled back, “now that my computer has recovered from that virus of last week, I’ve finally put our victims in the system, and I’m running them through the databases right now. It looks for a connection between the victims. Any connection will do,” she murmured as she frantically typed, and pressed enter rather comically. “Let’s see if the killer has a type, or a favourite haunting ground, so to speak, or if he isn’t killing randomly. If there’s a connection, a ‘match’, as the system calls it, it will show up in green.”

Miles and Alex stood in front of the big screen, as six, now familiar faces appeared on screen. The data search began, and pretty soon, sentences began to turn green. There were simple ones, like how all victims were female, and how two of them had brown hair, and four of them were killed in an alley, but soon, lesser known information came up.

“Linda Dowell and Jennifer Sollisser both went to the same nail salon, but one is on L.A., the other is here in New York… Hannah Smith and Laura Baker were members of the same church,” Miles rattled off the screen.

For a while, that was all they got. Miles nervously bit at his thumbnail, wishing for more. They needed more. The data scan was nearly at 100%, when suddenly three green sentences popped up next to each other. Then the scan came to an end with a _pling_.

“All three NYC victims transferred the same amount of money to the same bank account,” Alex remarked, nearly screaming as he quickly pointed at the screen. “Within three days of each other, too.” He turned towards Alexa. “Can you track that account number?”

“Absolutely,” Alexa nodded and began typing again.

Miles and Alex exchanged a hopeful glance, and then focussed back on Alexa. A smile spread across her face as she clicked and typed. “Got it!” She shrieked. “The account is registered to James Howard, but it’s an account for a small organisation called ‘Warehouse Down’,” she explained.

“‘Warehouse Down’?” Alex asked, looking from Alexa to Miles.

Miles shrugged. “I have no idea, mate.”

Alexa was already typing again. “Apparently it’s a small organisation trying to gather money to help finance the plans of bringing down the warehouses in the smaller warehouse district,” she murmured. “Our victims were the biggest donors.”

“What would replace those warehouses, once it’s taken down?” Alex asked.

Alexa scrolled down the page. “Hmmm… I see plans for a new school, a new shopping mall—”

“And let me guess, new law firm?” Alex interrupted her.

“Yeah!” Alexa confirmed, surprise in her tone. “H-how did you know that?”

“Hannah Smit was a kindergarten teacher, Laura Benjamin was a storeowner and Jennifer Sollisser a lawyer… taking down those warehouses would give them more options! Hannah Smith could apply for a job, Laura Benjamin could open a new store, and Jennifer Sollisser could leave Baker & Holton for a new place, where she could take on more challenging cases. So, they were interested in these new building plans and were the biggest donors. All we need to find out is…”

“…who owned those warehouses!” Miles finished Alex’s sentence, turning towards him with a smile.

“Exactly!” Alex exclaimed happily, beaming back at Miles.

The two detectives were standing opposite each other, eyes wide at their new recovery, and Miles found that he couldn’t look away from the excitement glimmering in his colleagues eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The detectives from six realize tracking down the warehouse owner might be harder than they expected. Alex comes up with a circumstantial theory, which leads him and Miles to go on a risky mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, sorry! I'm hoping to finish chapter 5 (my favourite) soon, but for now, enjoy chapter 4!

It took some time before Alexa was granted permission into the locked files that belonged to the warehouses. As she made the phone calls, the other detectives on six did what they could.

Matt and Jamie were in their office with Laura Benjamin's father and boyfriend, trying to see if they could offer some information.

Miles was reading the reports Jamie wrote about his interview with Warehouse Down’s James Howard , and the witness search in and around the bar where Laura was murdered. Alex added more details to their murder board as Miles read them to him.

“Surveillance at the crime scene?” Alex asked.

“Nope,” Miles sighed, popping the ‘p’. “There were no surveillance cameras, so that’s a dead end.”

“Family couldn’t offer up anything either,” Jamie informed the two as he walked by.

Alex snorted. “Figures…everything’s a fucking dead end in this case.”

Miles smiled weakly at the other, before he focused on their murder board, biting his thumbnail. It was a mess of Alex’s blocked writing, coloured timelines, empty crime scenes, and indeed, dead ends. He stared at the six photos. Six innocent victims staring back at him. He couldn’t fail, not again—

The little beep of his phone snapped him out of his haze. He quickly wrestled the device from his pocket, reading the display. Alexa. _Got your guy._

“She’s got it,” Miles said to Alex, who immediately caught Miles’ drift and nearly jumped up from the stool he sat upon to follow Miles to Alexa’s office.

\--

“I checked the warehouses that would have to make room for the school, the law firm and the shops,” Alexa said as soon as the two men walked in. “They’re owned by the same man.” She said, clucking her tongue.

“That’s great news, only strengthens his motive,” Alex hummed. “Got a name?”

“Sure do. Julian Hanssen is your guy.”

“Great work, Alexa,” Miles smiled. “Does he have a record?” he asked, bending over the desk further, nearly pressing his nose into the screen.

Alexa glared over her shoulder and gently placed her palm on Miles’ chest, pushing him back. “Relax, Miles. It’s loading in right now.”

After a few seconds, the file popped up on the screen, and Alexa scrolled down to the second page, before frowning and scrolling back up. “That’s impossible,” she mumbled.

“What is it, Alexa?” Alex asked, scanning the first page of the file.

She turned her head towards Alex. “Julian Hanssen is deceased,” she deadpanned. “There’s only one way a dead man own a building...”

“Someone stole his identity,” Miles filled in, dragging his hand over his face.

Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose and released a frustrated growl. “We’re nowhere, is what you’re saying.” He concluded.

“No,” Miles said firmly. “I want everything on Julian Hanssen... his associates, who would benefit from his identity, everything. I’ll instruct Jamie and Matt right now. Alex and I can look— We can, uh,” Miles began to stutter.

“Miles,” Alex said gently, placing his hand on Miles’ shoulder. “Take it easy, we’ll get to it.”

Miles shrugged Alex’s hand off his shoulder. “We’re not gonna take it easy, Turner,” he snapped. “People have been killed, we have a killer to catch. I— _We_ have been taking it easy long enough. Every second counts.” With that, he stormed off, mumbling on to himself.

Alex turned to Alexa, who had cast her eyes at the floor. “It’s really taken a toll on him, hasn’t it?” Alex asked her.

The brunette smiled wryly at him. “You have no idea.”

He gave her a weak smile in reply, before going after Miles.

“Helders, Cook,” Miles barked, “get me everything on Julian Hanssen. Everything.”

Matt stopped dead in his tracks. “Who did you say?”

“Julian Hanssen,” Miles repeated. “That’s Hanssen with one ‘n’ and a double ‘s’.”

“Well,” Alex smiled. “technically double ‘n’, too, but—”

“I know, Turner, I know,” Matt shushed him. “What I’m trying to say is that I know that name.”

“You do? How?”

Matt turned to his desk. “I don’t know him, know him, but ‘Julian Hanssen’ is an alias,” Matt explained. He grabbed his office chair and fell down in it, rolling back against his desk. With a few rolls of the mouse, he put the computer off stand-by, and clicked a few times. “I know that name from when I worked narcotics,” he continues. “The man you’re looking for is known in the circuit as ‘Roman’.” Matt clicked some more and a photo appeared on screen.

Roman looked like a bad guy. He was in his early 40s, and extremely built. He had a scar running across his face from his jaw to the temple on the other side of his face. His dark hair was slicked back, and his thick eyebrows were knitted together, weighing down on his dark eyes.

“Why isn’t that in the system, then?” Miles exclaimed, followed by a string of curses.

Matt simply shrugged as he clicked through Roman’s file. Then he frowned and hummed, bringing his face closer to the screen. “Alexa!” He called out.

The IT worker hurried her way from her office, her heels click-clacking against the wooden floor. “What is it?” She asked.

“Did you edit these?” He motioned towards the screen.

“No…” She said, shaking her head. “Why?”

Matt hummed again. “Strange,” he murmured.

“For god’s sake, why is everyone so mysterious around here?” Alex snapped. “We have a case to solve, Matt, if something’s wrong, spit it out.”

“Half of this file is deleted. If it weren’t for me knowing that Julian Hanssen was an alias of Roman’s, you’d never be able to find it in this record, either.”

“The virus…” Miles muttered. He turned towards the IT worker next to him. “Alexa, could it be possible for the virus to have been a distraction from what was actually going on: someone altering our files to cover their tracks?”

“Fuck.” The brunette quickly covered her mouth with her hand at that, but still turned red with anger, realizing someone had worked their way into their system. _Her_ system. “Yes, that is very possible, and very inconvenient. I’m on it.” She turned around, walking back to her office in a fast pace.

“Does it always go like this, here?” Alex whispered, attempting to joke to lighten the mood.

“This is unusual, even for us,” Miles said, jaw tense. “At least we have a suspect now. Or… a person of interest, rather.” He sighed and looked back at the screen.

“That file is useless now, Miles,” Matt said, as if he could read his colleagues mind. “But I can talk you through him.”

Miles turned his head towards his partner, raising his eyebrow in question.

“Let’s do it,” Alex said with a nod. “The best lead we have. Actually, it’s the only one…”

At that, both detectives grabbed a chair and sat as Matt began talking.

\--

Roman, so it turned out, was about as nice as he looked. A slick, charming man, who had slid and talked his way out of multiple charges, that varied from drug possession, to domestic violence, to sexual assault. Nothing seemed off limits, and though no one could prove it, he was believed to be one of the biggest names in New York drug trafficking.

Roman dropped from the radar completely about a year ago. Until now.

Many believed him to be dead, something Matt didn’t believe. “If Roman was dead, he’d make damn sure everyone and everything knew about his death,” he reasoned. He didn’t think it was unlikely that he was rebuilding his empire. Matt also didn’t think it was unlikely that Roman was connected to the New York murders, but didn’t see a connection with the LA victims.

Miles argued that Roman used aliases, some they might not even be aware of, some he might use all over the country.

Alex stared at the murder board while the two other detectives brainstormed. Suddenly, his voice piped up with a soft, “What if the murders in LA and New York aren’t connected?”

“What?”

“I said,” Alex began, raising his voice. “What if the murders in LA and New York aren’t connected?”

“What is your theory, Turner?” Matt asked, intrigued.

“We’ve frantically tried to find a connection between all six victims, but what if there isn’t one? O’Malley said it himself, the victims were killed by the same person, but…what if the victims are connected only by their killer, not by motive to kill?” He pointed at the photo of Roman they’d put up on the murder board. “Roman had recently made a comeback of sorts, right? I bet not all of his old buddies wanted to or could reunite with him. He needed new recruits to rebuilt his empire. Young blood, yeah? What if he hired someone with a little more baggage than he signed up for?”

“Accidentally hiring an LA hitman…” Miles muttered. “That’s brilliant.”

“And entirely circumstantial,” Matt reminded the pair. “It won’t give us a warrant. In fact, I think Homme will put you on the first plane back to LA if you dare pitch this work of fiction to him.”

“Then we don’t,” Miles said immediately. Alex’s face dropped, and he slumped back against the desk “Let’s pay the warehouse district a visit, shall we?” He continued, glancing at Alex.

Alex smirked, agreeing with a nod before jumping up from the desk he sat upon.

“Wh- Miles, no,” Matt sputtered. “Any evidence you will find there will be obtained illegally!”

“Who says we’re bringing anything back, Matthew?” Miles asked, already heading for his and Alex’s office, the dark-haired detective following him suit. “Alex and I - We’re simply two businessmen, interested in some buildings.”

“Guys, I really don’t think this is a good idea…” Matt tried again.

Alex grinned at him, then faced Miles. “Ready to search for some valuable property, mister Kane?”

“Absolutely, mister Turner,” Miles laughed. “Let’s start in the warehouse district.”

\--

“And you’re sure mister Hanssen would meet you here?”

Alex and Miles were standing in front of one of the empty buildings that belonged to Roman. Or, Hanssen, as he referred to himself.

Alex was carrying a briefcase, supposedly containing important documents. He smiled at the man that introduced himself simply as an associate of mister Hanssen. Jamie had gotten his hands on his phone number, and they’d orchestrated a fake meeting for Miles and Alex, who posed as two locals who were interested in buying the buildings, no matter the price.

Miles adjusted his tie, winking at the man. “Absolutely certain.”

“He’s not here, though, mister…” The man gestured at Miles, question in his voice.

“How terribly rude of me! Name’s Sloan,” Miles replied, shaking the man’s hand. “This is my partner, Conrad,” he said as he gestured towards Alex.

“Well, mister Sloan, mister Conrad, I’m afraid we’re gonna have to reschedule…”

“Listen,” Alex began, his voice dropping. “Mister Sloan and I, we have tight schedule, which means we don’t have time to _re_ schedule. Besides, would you really want to upset mister Hanssen? I think you and I both know that could end up…messy.”

The man turned pale at the remark, and looked as if he could envision the scene. “I—What do you suggest, mister Conrad?”

Alex glanced at Miles from the corner of his eye, and Miles gave him the slightest of nods, ensuring him he should try whatever he was up to

“How about you open this for us, so we can take a little look,” Alex said, knocking his briefcase against the metal door. “We’re satisfied, because we won’t have to reschedule, and mister Hanssen won’t have to take drastic measures to punish you for your stupidity, because we won’t say a word. How about that?”

The man seemed to think at that, before his shaky reply came. “N-no one has to know?” He asked.

“No one has to know,” Miles ensured him.

“A-alright, yeah, I’ll just, eh,” the man stuttered as he tried to push the key in the lock. It slid in, turned, and then clicked, before the metal door opened with a squeak. “Just…don’t take too long.”

“We’ll take however long we need, thank you very much” Alex spat. “And without an audience,” he added when the man tried to follow him and Miles. He pressed his finger into the man’s chest and pushed him back out. “Go out for a smoke or something, I don’t care.”

Alex closed the door behind them, a little metal _clink_ echoing through the emptiness. Immediately both detectives had their guns raised, but soon put them down when they confirmed the space free of any threat. The room was lit with a strange, green fluorescent light, and surprisingly empty. In the back were a few lifts and stackers, empty shelves, wooden pallets and blue buckets.

“Nice job, out there,” Miles said. “You go left, I’ll go right and we’ll just…you know, look for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary.”

Alex nodded as he holstered his gun, and then turned his back on the other detective to investigate the left side of the room, taking his flashlight and gloves from his pocket.

Miles sighed, holstering his gun and taking his necessities from his pockets as well, before turning to his side of the room.

It was silent for a while as the detectives poked around the few boxes in the room. Most of them were empty, only Styrofoam used as a filler.

Miles sighed. “We should stop, maybe were wrong after all.”

“So, about the Murphy case,” Alex said at the same time.

“I can’t believe you’re bringing this up, now of all times.” Miles groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it, Alex. It’s done and dealt with.”

“I don’t think—”

“ _I_ don’t think you have the right to ask me about this, so shut the hell up and search your side,” Miles snapped at his colleague.

“I thought you said we should stop,” Alex countered, pointing his flashlight on Miles.

“Well, I take that back. Search your side.”

“You’re gonna have to talk about it eventually, you know,” Alex said, pointing his flashlight down again.

Miles huffed and then chose to ignore the other as he crouched down and inspected a box on the floor.

“Miles.”

“Alex, I’m seriously booking you the next flight back to LA if you dare to—”

“No, seriously, get over here,” the other detective nearly whispered.

Miles got up and strode over to the other side of the room, kneeling next to Alex, who was on his knees in front of a wooden crate.

“Hold this.” Alex thrusted the flashlight into Miles’ hand, before he began to pry the crate open. The wood gave in a second later, the top of the crate falling back on the floor.

The detectives bent over, looking into the chest, Miles pointing the flashlight at its contents, before they released a simultaneous, “Fuck.”

“I-is… Is t-that…” Alex stuttered.

“Cocaine?” Miles finished. “Absolutely.” He moved some of the white bags aside, revealing more bags beneath it. “And much of it.”

Alex elbowed him, pointing to the corner. “There’s five more crates there.”

“We need to go,” Miles said, getting up. “We have our evidence, we need to get that warrant as soon as possible. We’ll go back to the precinct, and—”

Miles was cut off by two loud shots from behind him, one hitting him in the arm.

“Miles! Get down!” Alex yelled, jumping up and pushing Miles to the ground. He crawled behind the crates, dragging Miles with him.

Another shot echoed through the emptiness, and Alex grabbed his gun from its holster before he peeked around the crates. “I can’t see where they’re shooting from,” he whispered, voice quivering.

Miles groaned, clutching his arm as the warm stream of blood gushed down the suit he wore. Carefully, he stood up and peeked over the top of the crates. He spotted two men, flat on their stomachs. “Up there,” he panted. “From one of the stackers.”

Alex slung his arm under Miles’ holding him up while his other arm raised his gun. “I’ve got us for now, but…you’ve got to request back up.”

“No,” Miles said immediately, violently shaking his head. “We’ll blow this lead! We can’t.”

“Miles,” Alex hissed, before firing two shots towards the stackers. “It’s either us, or this lead.”

“I…I can’t,” Miles stammered.

Miles’ body got heavier, Alex noticed, and he hauled him up, wrenching another pained groan from the other man. “Miles, look at me,” Alex ordered. Miles’ lip quivered, eyes still forward. It took another, “Miles, eyes on me, c’mon,” before turned his head towards his colleague, panicked and pained. “I know,” Alex shushed him. “I know. You don’t want to fuck it up again, but we can’t solve this case if we’re both injured, or worse: dead. I intend to solve this case, Miles, how ‘bout you?”

Miles nodded, expression the same as he reached for his receiver. Another shot fired, and Alex fired back while Miles brought the device up to his face. "This is detective Kane, badge number 41904, requesting backup. Armed attack on two police officers. Permission to track location."

“Your injury,” Alex reminded him.

Miles stayed still, eyes locked on Alex all the same, but unable to move. “I…I don’t think I…”

Alex fumbled for the receiver, plucking it from Miles’ hands. “Detective Turner, badge number 01146, one officer down, gunshot wound on the left arm, in immediate need of medical attention.”

“Detective Kane, detective Turner, remain calm, help is on the way,” the female voice on the other end of the receiver croaked.

At that, Miles’ eyes slipped closed.

\--

_“Miles.”_

_Miles eyes snapped open at the whisper of his name. He scanned his surroundings. The gentle chatter of people around him., the wooden chair he was in...he was at Shutterbugs, he realized. He cast his eyes forward, meeting big, friendly brown eyes, dark hair partly covering them._

_Alex._

_“Are you listening, love?” He asked, flashing Miles a dazzling smile._

_Miles was suddenly hyper aware of how the man was holding his hand over the table and caressed the back with his thumb slowly. “No,” he answered honestly._

_It resulted in another laugh from Alex, and Miles couldn’t help but laugh with him._

_“I said, you need to be careful,” Alex said, his eyes suddenly concerned. “Miles, you really **don’t** know what you’re up against.”_

_“What do you mean?” Miles asked, confused._

_“Stay away—” Alex’s voice cut out, making it so that Miles was only able to see his lips move._

_“What? Alex, I can’t hear you.” He squeezed Alex’s hand and brought his face closer, hoping he could hear the other then._

_“Stay away from—”_

“Miles! Miles!”

Miles’ eyes snapped open at the frantic yelling of his name. Immediately, he met big brown eyes with dark hair that was partially covering them. They were concerned this time, but then flooded with relief.

He was moving, he noticed, and Alex was walking with him, clutching his hand with two of his own. Miles turned his head and spotted the ambulance next to him. He was on a stretcher, he realized. They’d opened fire on them… “Stay away from what?” He sputtered suddenly, eyes blown wide, shaking the hand Alex was holding to get his attention.

Alex frowned. “What?”

“You—You told me. You warned me—” Miles stuttered, before he realized how dry his throat was, keeping him from speaking. He also began feeling a thumping pain in his arm, and cringed when he remembered getting shot.

He asked for back up.

He blew the mission.

“Homme,” he choked out. “Does Homme know?”

They reached the ambulance, and Alex’s eyes shot to the floor, carefully allowing Miles’ hand to slip from his. Then he nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homme demands an explanation from Alex and Miles for their reckless behaviour, forcing Alex to share his theory. Jamie shares new found information with Miles, offering a good chance to arrest Roman on his own territory. Getting there, though, comes with a few surprises from Alex's side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long, for which I apologize. I find it difficult, yet incredibly fun to write this fic, but am also afraid that it's getting boring. Originally, this chapter and my upcoming chapter 6 were one big chapter, but it felt right to cut off here. I hope you enjoy this. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you all for your enthusiastic comments, here and on Tumblr, it makes me incredibly happy!

“Let me get this straight: You went out on some mission playing dress up, without proper back up?”

“Sir, we—”

“I’m not done, Kane,” Homme interrupted, holding his hand up. “And not only do you get _shot_ ,” he motions towards Miles’ arm, now supported by a thin, blue sling, “you also made any evidence we found there completely useless. There was enough cocaine there to put whoever owned that warehouse behind bars for the rest if their life. Do you know how this makes this precinct look? Drug dealers getting off on a technicality... Not to mention that captain Jung is furious that I put his best detective in danger,” he spat, pointing at Alex. “What were you two even thinking? Because Helders told me he thought your theory was too stupid to even mention.” Homme leaned back against his desk, arms folded over his broad chest. Miles and Alex shared a look, before Alex sighed and spoke,

“We— I mean, _I_ … I have a theory, but it’s entirely circumstantial.”

“Helders told me that.”

“Then I think he also told you how he thinks you would send me on the first plane back to LA if I ever... Hmm, how did he say it… Dare to pitch my piece of fiction to you?” Alex asked, raising his eyebrow and hooking his ankle over his knee.

“ _Alex_ ,” Miles hissed.

Homme narrowed his eyes. “Big mouth you’ve got… Is that what they teach you at the LAPD?”

“They teach me to go after what I believe in,” Alex returned nearly instantly.

Homme huffed. “How about this, Turner,” he leaned forward, eyes levelling with the detective, “if you don’t pitch your work of fiction to me _right now_ , I will send you back to LA, no matter what.”

“Fine,” Alex replied, holding his hands up in defence. “I think the murders in New York and the ones in L.A. are only connected by killer, not by motive.”

Homme scoffed. “And what are you basing this on?”

“As I said,” Alex sighed, “it’s entirely circumstantial.”

“Oh, c’mon, Turner, you must have a hunch! How did you come up with this theory of yours?”

“We’ve tried to find the connection between the two for so long now, that I think there isn’t one. Your M.E. confirmed the murders are committed by the same person, but the victims seem to have no connection to each other at all. The warehouses detective Kane and I were investigating when the mission went eh… sideways, they belong to one person, a so called ‘Roman’, well-known name in narcotics—”

“I know of his reputation,” Homme interrupted.

“We can tie him to the New York victims via his warehouses. Of course, guys like this Roman never take care of their own business, unless it’s a personal matter, so I’m thinking a new employee of his might be responsible. He’d need new people to rebuilt his old empire, after all. He kills the LA victims, comes to New York City and begins working for Roman, killing the New York victims.”

Homme leaned back against his desk. “That’s brilliant,” he huffed. Alex gaped at him, then turned to look at Miles, who had the same expression on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Homme asked.

“Well, sir,” Alex began, amusement apparent in his voice. “As you said, detective Helders specifically recommended me not to do that.”

“Right,” Homme murmured. “From now on, ignore detective Helders’ advice when it comes to these kinds of matters. Report them to me. I’m the captain, after all,” he said. “Look into this, detectives.”

“We will, Sir,” Miles said as both detectives stood up from their chairs.

“I can see what Jung sees in you, Turner.” Homme suddenly said, ignoring Miles. “Really good work.”

Alex gave him a stunned look. “Thank you, sir,” he replied with a nod of his head, then turned to look at Miles. “Couldn’t have done it without detective Kane’s help, though.” Miles gave him a surprised look in return.

“Alright, I didn’t know you were gonna get sappy. You’re both dismissed,” Homme said, waving both hands towards the door to his office. “But keep me updated,” he warned. “On everything. Although this is surprisingly great work, we need evidence.”

“We’ll get you that evidence, sir. I promise,” Miles nodded confidently.

“And I don’t want you two to pull another stunt like this last one without my knowing!”

Miles and Alex made their way quickly, wanting to leave the captain’s office before the man changed his mind. The two walked back to their office in silence, feeling the eyes of the rest of the floor glued to them all the way till they reached the door.

Alex opened the door for Miles, so they could slip inside quickly. Once the door was closed, he leaned against it and sighed. “That was close… I didn’t think that conversation would play out like th—Miles! What are you doing?” Alex asked suddenly, eyes wide.

As Alex spoke, Miles reached behind his neck with his free hand and clicked the sling open behind his neck. Almost theatrically, he threw the blue piece next to him on the ground. “I’m not wearing that thing,” he said simply. “I’m fine,” he added, though he visibly winched when he lowered his arm. “We have work to do and I’m useless with one arm. Now, for more important things: Why did you lie to Homme? We both know you figured that theory our yourself.”

Alex frowned. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be runnin’ around injured and not knowing what you’re doing.”

“Don’t ignore my question,” Miles said, slightly offended. When his colleague glared at him in response, Miles sighed. “Fine - if it’s so important to you… I know what I’m doing, and I feel fine. I got shot in the arm, Alex, not the head” he said. He noticed Alex could damn well see he wasn’t in fact fine, but as the man raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, probably to protest, Miles quickly added, “Not need for you to go playin’ me mum.” Miles winked as he sat down behind his desk, hoping Alex would drop the matter.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Just… be careful, okay? And let me know when things aren’t well.” He mimicked Miles, sitting down as well.

Miles blinked at him for a while. Because he didn’t respond right away, Alex turned away, grabbing a dossier from the drawer in his desk, placing it open on his desk and keeping the hair from his eyes as he bent over it and began reading.

Silence followed, and Miles pretended to sign paperwork, his unanswered question still swirling in his head.

As if Alex could read his mind, the man spoke. “This is going to sound a bit… weird, perhaps,” he began. “But if you must know, there’s certain things you say when we look at the evidence, and they just… they do something to my thinking process. It’s like it triggers me to find the solution, so… I didn’t lie to Homme, in a way.”

“Thank you, Alex,” Miles said, followed by a genuine smile. “For that and… for caring about my well-being.”

Alex relaxed in his chair. “Of course, Miles. You’re my partner. I care,” the LAPD detective said simply.

He smiled, then. It was a smile Miles didn’t see other than when no one but him was around; a smile that really seemed to reach Alex’s eyes. Miles’ cheeks heated as he realized he might be growing fond of that smile, and of having it to himself, and he quickly turned his attention back to the papers in front of him

\--

“Roman owns a club.”

Miles, leaning against the coffee machine, nearly spat out his coffee as Jamie brought the new found information up casually, as if it’s completely irrelevant and dismissible. Miles sees it as an opportunity.

“Why are you only mentioning that now?" Miles asked, still sputtering a little.

The blond shrugged, cheeks red. “I’m mentioning it now…” He turned on his heels and made his way to his and Matt’s shared office. Miles followed him quickly.

“Spill the beans, Cook,” Miles pressed.

“Fine,” Jamie hissed, closing the door behind them with wary eyes. “It’s called ‘Hysteria’. It’s a gay club. I’ve been there a few times, when I was younger; before I started seeing Katie. I didn’t know the Roman who runs that club was _our_ Roman, so this is my mistake. I sort of _just_ puzzled it together.”

“Detective Cook, I can’t believe my ears…” Suddenly, Miles’ eyes went wide. “Did you hook up with Roman? Is that where this is going?” Miles can’t help the questions escaping his lips, but when Jamie pulls a horrified face, he realizes his mistake.

“What the hell, Miles? No!” Jamie yelled, blushing bright red. “My god, _no_.” He turned away from Miles while he shook his head.

Miles was rather amused seeing Jamie all flushed over this sudden revelation. Jamie kept to himself at work, and most colleagues probably didn’t know much about the blond working in homicide. Matt knew more about Jamie, having known him from the police academy. Miles also became part of that small circle once Jamie was assigned as his partner, a position which eventually led the two detectives to become close friends. Both Matt and Miles had even been invited to Jamie and Katie’s wedding. This little fact, however, was not something they had discussed before.

“I didn’t know you were—”

“I’m going to stop you there,” Jamie interjected. “I hate to discuss this at _work_ , so feel free to ask me everything you want when we’re having drinks at Shutterbugs sometime.”

“Understood,” Miles said with a chuckle, deciding he had teased Jamie enough.

“Good,” Jamie sighed. “Back to the case: Rumour has it that Roman’s into blokes, and that he’s usually at Hysteria on the weekends, looking for a… partner for the evening,” Jamie said, coughing near the end. “We could get a warrant and pick him up.”

Miles looked at Jamie expectantly, and the blond raised an eyebrow at Miles’ silence. “But?” Miles elaborated. “There must be a ‘but’.”

“I’ve never seen him there before, Mi. I’ve been there often and never once did I see him.”

“You weren’t looking for him,” Miles murmured while he contemplated his own options.

“That is true,” Jamie agreed. “Another problem is that the moment we send uniforms there to pick him up he’ll know we’re onto him. If he’s not there, he’ll have plenty of time to flee.”

Miles was silent once more, and Jamie chuckled. “I know that look, mate. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking no uniforms. It’s a public place, so we won’t need a warrant,” Miles began, thinking out loud. “It’s Thursday, so Alex and I could go there tomorrow. If there’s drugs being done there, and let’s be real, there will be, we can get Roman for that. Once we have him, we can question him about the ‘Warehouse Down’ project before moving him to holding.”

Jamie hummed. “ _Hypothetically_ , that’s actually a really good idea.”

Miles gasped faux-offended. “Hypothetically?”

“I’m telling you, Miles: You’ll need a lot of luck,” Jamie said seriously. “First Homme has to approve of another Turner and Kane adventure, then we have to get into the club unseen, and _if_ Roman will actually be there, how will you get to him?”

Miles worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’d like to try our luck,” he decided. “Leave Homme to Alex, he’ll warm the captain up to the idea, no problem.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled his partner’s number.

“You’re sure?” Jamie asked.

Miles nodded shortly. “For the last problem, I think our best chance is knowing the building inside and out. Think you can walk me through the building plans?” He asked as he brought the phone to his ear.

Jamie sighed, already moving towards his desk. “Definitely. I’ll ask Alexa to send me the maps.”

\--

_“I’m going in now, will call you as soon as I can.”_

“Good luck.”

 _“Please, Miles, I’ve got this,”_ Alex’s voice assured from the other side of the line. Miles chuckled as he hung up.

“Alex is on his way to Homme,” he informed Jamie.

“And Alexa just sent me map,” Jamie countered as Miles put his phone down on the desk. “It’s been a while since I’ve been inside the place, so I can’t promise you it’s gonna be accurate.”

“Any sort of preparation will be a good one. I think mainly the exits will be important, in case we have another eh… incident,” Miles settled on.

“I don’t think those have changed much,” Jamie mumbles, narrowing his eyes at the computer screen. “This is the entrance.” he pointed at the bottom of the map. “There’s usually a doorman there, who’ll need a password. The password changes each week, so I’ll try to figure it out in time. Else, we’ll need to go through the back entrance.” Jamie pointed at the opposite side of the map. “One guard, usually. He only let’s regulars in, so in case I can’t get the password, that’s where you’ll have to go through.”

Miles winced. “Guess that won’t be easy.”

Jamie shook his head in response. “Then, for when you get inside…” He clicked on the next map. “The dancefloor is pretty obviously in the middle, restrooms off to the left. These are stairs,” Jamie pointed at the right side of the map, “to the offices above the club. My best guess is that you’d find Roman there. Obviously, that’ll be guarded, so only make a move if you’re _really_ sure he’s there.”

Miles nodded. “We will. Thanks, Jamie,” he said, squeezing Jamie’s shoulder. “We’ll be careful.”

“Please do,” Jamie said. “Roman is on another level than Murphy, I hope you realize that. And don’t give me that ‘I’m in no way comparing those cases’ bullshit, because I know you are.” Miles eyes found the ground. “I still think about it every day as well, but you have to move on, Miles.”

Miles purposely avoided Jamie’s gaze. He knew Jamie was right, so protesting wouldn’t do either of them any good. Instead, he settled on silence.

“I’ll text my buddy from back in the day, maybe he can get me the password. I’ll text it to you once I got it—”

Then, Miles’ phone vibrated on Jamie’s desk, ‘Turner, Alex,’ flashing across the screen. Miles fumbled for the device and slid the green button to the side before muttering, “and?”

Alex was silent for a while, before asking, “There’s this great club I heard of, care to join me tomorrow evening?”

\--

“Okay, so remember,” Jamie said, adjusting the microphone taped to Alex’s chest, but addressing both detectives. “We can hear you, but you can’t hear us, okay? Stay inside longer than two hours, and we go in there. Say the safe word, and we go in there.”

“And what’s our safe word, detective Cook?” Miles asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jamie paused his work to glare at Miles. “How about we go with yours, detective Kane,” he countered. Miles gaped at him, face suddenly feeling incredibly warm.

“Pineapple,” Alex said, the corners of his mouth curling up in a careful smile.

“‘Pineapple’,” Jamie repeated with a laugh. “Fine with me. Say the word and we’ll come to your rescue.”

Matt grabbed his small binoculars from his pocket, aiming it at the entrance of the club. Jamie had been unable to get his hands on the password, so Miles and Alex were to go through the back. “It’s like you said, Jamie: One guard,” he said. “Looks like there’s no one behind the door, he just opened the door for a few guests himself… You’re gonna have to get past him.” He thrusted the binoculars into Alex’s hand so he could have a look, after which he handed it to Miles so he too could see what they were dealing with.

After some good luck wishes and one last run through of their plan, Jamie and Matt stayed behind in the van while Alex and Miles stepped out.

When Miles slammed the door of the car shut, Alex was already by his side. “Ready to party, Miles?” He asked with a chuckle. His voice gave him away though, wavering a bit, indicating that he was more nervous than he was letting on.

Miles smiled. “Excuse you; I might not look it, but I _always_ am.” He popped a button on his white dress shirt for good measure. “First, we need to think of a way to get past that man, though,” he replied as he started walking. The other detective followed him suit, staying by his side.

The guard was bald and broad, and he reminded Miles of a cartoon character. He was wearing an earpiece, a curly wire slipping down the collar of his coat at the back of his neck.

“We just have to act like we’re regulars, I suppose,” Alex replied. “Regular drug dealers, that is… The more normal we appear, the easier he’ll let us through without a hassle.”

Miles nodded. “Sounds good. What do you propose?”

Alex thought at that for a while, before he smiled to himself and glanced up at Miles. “Oh my god, Miles, are you kiddin’?” He yelled, thickening his accent and fake-slurring as he spoke. “I can’ believe yer joost shot tha’ bloke fer bein’ one day late wiv ‘is payment. Mate, you’re summat else.” He slapped Miles’ shoulder and hauled back with a laugh.

“I though you said _normal_ ,” Miles hissed. Then, “Al, ‘m tellin’ yer, y’should’ve seen ‘is face. Priceless, that. ‘s his fault for thinkin’ he could run off with me coke _an’_ me money, righ’?”

“Aye!” Alex yelled in agreement. “Fink he’s gonna show up tonight, eh?”

They came closer and closer to the door, and both detectives were pretty sure the guard could hear them by now. Their suspicions were confirmed when he looked up with a frown in his brow. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Lemme tell ya, if he’s a smart lad, he won’t,” Miles replied. Nervously, he cast a look at the guard. He was approaching the pair rapidly.

“Gentlemen, this is private property,” he said, voice raised.

“He isn’t buying it. We need a plan b, la. And quick,” Miles whispered, after which he went back to his act and giggled when Alex acted like he tripped over his own feet.

The guard was closing in, and Miles placed his palm on the gun he carried with him when Alex gave no reply. When Alex saw what Miles was up to, he frantically shook his head. Miles ignored him, knowing this was his only chance given the time they had. Just as he was about to retrieve the weapon from his jeans, Alex pushed his hand away, curled his hand around his neck, and pulled him close.

“What are you doing?” Miles whispered frantically.

“Just go with it,” Alex whispered, and then closed the distance between them completely, pressing his lips to Miles’.

He wrapped his arms around the other, pulling his body against his own. Confused, Miles pulled away, and stared at Alex in disbelief. His eyes were heavy-lidded, and his lips were parted, short breaths hitting Miles’ face. And then, surprising himself, Miles tangled his hand in the man’s hair and pulled him back in. He forgot his surroundings completely when Alex heaved a little moan. On instinct, he slipped his tongue past the others lips. Alex offered no resistance, and only got more vocal when Miles’ tongue slid against his own.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, and glanced past Miles. The guard hard turned away, probably returning to his spot when he realized turning these particular drunks away was a lost cause. Alex pulled away from Miles rather ungracefully, and hit the man on the back of the head. The man went down with a groan, and didn’t move after that.

Alex flashed Miles a smile. “Done.”

Miles just stood there, giving his colleague a stunned look, his cheeks flushed, his lips still a little pout. He released a shaky breath before muttering a quick, “Nice one.”

He didn’t really know what exactly he was referring to.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an interesting entrance, Miles and Alex explore the New York City nightlife in hopes of arresting their suspect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the fact I've finished this story (hurray!!), editing this chapter took way longer than I expected. Writing hasn't been easy the past few weeks, for some reason. Even small parts take ages and it's not fun at all. I hope you enjoy this. Hope to update with the next chapter and a few one-shots soon! Thanks for all your wonderful comments here and on Tumblr, it means a lot to me!

The two detectives had entered the club, carefully walking through the hallways in the back of the building. The followed the thumping of the music, the heavy bass leading their way. Suddenly, Alex turned around and eyed Miles up and down. “You look to much like a cop,” he concluded.

“Pardon?” Offended, Miles narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Alex sighed and brought his hands up, brushing from Miles’ chest to his shoulders, fingers slipping beneath Miles’ blazer. Miles froze, suddenly aware of their close proximity and Alex’s hands on him.

“May I?” Alex asked, finding Miles eyes as he stilled all movement.

Miles didn’t know what exactly he would be agreeing to, but he found himself nodding sheepishly regardless. Alex’s hands pushed the blazer off his shoulders, making it fall to the floor. He popped the collar on Miles’ white shirt and opened another button on it, basically exposing Miles’ chest entirely. With a final pull, he drew the bottom of the shirt from Miles pants. Then, the touch was gone. Miles blinked up at Alex, watching as the man ruffled his hair until it stuck out messily.

“There,” he concluded. “Now we look a little more like people actually trying to have a good time instead of cops looking to expose a drug lord.”

“What about my blazer?” Miles scoffed.

Alex glared at him. “Like you don’t own a million of those already. We’ve been working together long enough for me to say that I’m sure that you have plenty, but if this one is of emotional value we can come back and pick it up once we’ve got our suspect in custody, how’s that?”

Miles found himself smiling at the comment, before turning on his heels. He was facing the door that would led them into the club, he knew from the building plans Jamie had showed him. His hand hovered over the door handle, their plan swirling through his head, looking for any indication to stop the mission, then finding there weren’t any. Really, he couldn’t stop now if he wanted to.

“Okay, so remember, if we spot him we approach together. If something happens, we have the saf—”

“Chirst, Miles, just open the door already.” Alex pushed past Miles, his hand finding the handle and pushing down. With a stumble, he stepped inside, Miles following him.

All at once, they were surrounded by dance music and the chatter of voices. Miles looked around, slightly stunned at his surroundings. Lights flickered and twirled, colouring them in red and blue, before turning swiftly to green and yellow, and back again. The club wasn’t all that big, but the walls reached high, coming up into a ceiling that supported another dancefloor above their heads, making the space appear to be bigger than it actually was. The smoke machine hissed and people began cheering shortly after some comment made by the DJ.

Alex looked over his shoulder and saw Miles gaping. “You don’t go out very often, do you?” He clamped his hand over Miles’ shoulder and hauled back with a laugh when the man shook his head ‘no’.

“Work kind of gets in the way…” Miles nearly mumbled, but his response wasn’t lost on Alex.

“You’re no fun, Kane. And you work way to much. ‘s like you live in that precinct, y’know?” He elaborated. “When the time presents itself, I’m dragging you away from that place and we’ll go out proper, yeah?” Alex laughed again, and grabbed Miles’ hand, not waiting for Miles’ response, instead dragging the other detective along behind him.

They skilfully pushed their way past sweaty bodies and flailing limbs. Miles didn’t know where Alex planned on going. He realized they hadn’t even talked much about how to go about it once they were inside. Their goal was clear: Find Roman and take him in if possible.

That first part of the mission may prove itself a hard task.

Lost in thought, Miles barely even registered the tug on his arm. With another yank, his hand slipped from Alex’s, and his chest bumped against another man’s. The man immediately pulled Miles close, grinding up against him with a smirk as what Miles presumed were his friends howled around him. A bit stunned, Miles didn’t immediately react until the man murmured something in Miles’ ear. He pressed his palms against the man’s chest and pushed him away. Clearly, it offended the other man, and with a furrow in his brow his mouth began moving around words Miles’ couldn’t hear over the music. Miles was ready to start cursing himself, until he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder that pulled him away.

Behind him, Alex grinned. He cast a look over Miles’ shoulder. “Sorry, mate,” Alex yelled at the man Miles had been dancing with moments ago. Then he pointed at Miles. “He’s with me.”

The man held his hands up in surrender, but didn’t hesitate to give Miles one last wink. Alex quickly pushed Miles to the middle of the dancefloor, where he turned towards him, a small smile tugging at his lips. Miles eyes went wide as the other slowly began to move along with the music, shaking his hips and stepping closer to Miles as he did so. He slung his arm around Miles neck and leaned in until his head was next to Miles’, his chin resting on Miles’ shoulder as sweaty locks of hair tickling the side of Miles’ face. A little puzzled, Miles went with it, his hand resting on the small of Alex’s back.

“So,” Alex said. “I can see why you never go out. Men throw themselves on you. Or rather, throw you onto themselves.”

Miles chuckled, shaking his head a little. “Trust me, that isn’t how things usually go.”

Alex pulled away and gave Miles a confused look up and down, before taking position again. “I find that had to believe.”

Miles felt his cheeks heat at that, unsure of what to reply to that. Instead he asked, “What are we doing?”

“Excellent question,” Alex said. “I found myself thinking the same thing earlier, and I think we need to get a good view of this place so that we can locate the important people, y’know?”

“And that’s why we’re swaying around in the middle of the dancefloor?” He asked.

Alex’s laugh filled his ear. “The center seemed a good place to oversee the whole place,” he shrugged. “And I happen to like dancing.”

Miles nodded, finding it hard to concentrate on anything but the scent of Alex’s hair filling his nose, the man’s hand burning in his nape and the way their bodies were pressed together, seemingly moving off their own accord,. “So I’ve noticed,” comes Miles’ reply eventually.

“There really is plenty to see here, detective,” Alex said playfully. “For example,” he pushed and pulled at Miles until they spun around, “the couple there in the back, practically shagging against the door to the emergency exit.” Miles eyes focussed on the pair, rutting against one another as they kissed feverishly. He laughed, until he was spinning again, facing the bar. “Or the bloke there, who’s trying to chat up the man behind the bar for a free drink.”

Instead, Miles’ eyes focussed on something else. He frowned, then turned Alex so that he was facing the direction Miles was before. “Southeast corner,” he said.

There was a relatively large plateau there, with a leather couch and a low table, accessible via a broad staircase. Two men stood by the stairs, arms crossed over their chest. Guards, probably. On the plateau were about six men total, Miles had quickly summarized in his head. (A number that could probably be specified in three actually important people with their ‘company’…) One man was bent towards the table, moving his head to the side suddenly before his head jerked up. He looked to the man next to him, euphoric, before gesturing towards the table.

“We’ve got this place on the drugs,” Alex chuckled.

“We might just get it for all of it,” Miles replied. “Left side, leaning over the railing, talking to a bloke by the bar.”

Miles felt Alex turn his head slightly to focus his attention to the left side of the plateau at Miles’ remark, and he too noticed another man there. He was extremely built, hair slicked back, a prominent scar running across his face…

“Roman,” Alex gasped.

Miles smirked to himself, terribly pleased that they had been able to track the man down within an hour after entering the club.

“I’m moving in on it,” Alex said into Miles’ ear. “I want you to shadow me from the bar, can you do that?”

_No._

“Alex,” Miles hissed, subconsciously pulling the man closer. “We have a plan, we can’t just—”

“Go to the bar.” Alex entangled himself from Miles embrace. “And don’t get hit on,” he warned playfully. Then he disappeared into the crowd.

Miles rushed after him, intending to stop the man, but he was too late, having lost Alex in the crowd. He cursed to himself before he ducked his head down to bring the microphone he wore to his mouth.

“Alex’s gone off to do something stupid. Stay alert for the safe word.”

\--

“If we’d just let anyone who says they know someone here pass, we wouldn’t need a fucking guard like me, would we?”

Alex gave the guard his best disappointed pout, before continuing to press on with a fake slurring voice. “Sir, I’m absolutely certain that if you’d kindly ask Mr. Roman, he’d let me pass.

“Listen up, you little brat.” The guard grabbed Alex by the collar, making the smaller man gulp. “I know your type; young, hot, looking for a good shag with a powerful man. They come here every week. I send them away every week. So, try your luck elsewhere before I—”

“Joseph, what’s going on here?” A voice called from behind the guard.

The man quickly released Alex from his grip and turned, revealing Roman behind him, question in his eyes.

The guard pointed at Alex. “This one says he knows you, sir. I’ve already told him to leave, but…”

As the guard talked, Alex desperately tried to catch Roman’s gaze. As soon as he saw the man looking his way when the guard mentions him, he ruffled his hair, then brushed it from his eyes. That seemed to do the trick as Roman cocked an eyebrow at Alex, who in turn deliberately licked his lips before worrying the bottom one between his teeth, never looking away.

Roman eyed him up and down .“I think I’ve seen that face before,” he spoke lowly. Then, he motioned for Alex to come closer. “C’mere.”

Alex smirked at the guard as he passed the man, walking further up the steps until Roman reached his hand out. Immediately, Alex reached for it with his own, letting himself be pulled onto the plateau and then, they were face to face. They were about the same height, Alex noted, but Roman was much broader. The scar running from his chin to the temple across from it was almost like a shadow on the man’s already dark face. He grinned at Alex, revealing a straight line of white teeth with one golden tooth near the middle, before he pulled Alex along with him, to the couch.

Alex let himself fall down on the leather, and Roman took his place next to him, sitting so close that their thighs touched. He reached over to the table and offered Alex a glass. Alex took it with a smile, before throwing the contents back with one sip, slightly grimacing at the burn in his throat.

“What brings a beautiful young man like you here?” Roman asked, making his intentions very clear with his remark as his eyes roaming over Alex shamelessly, gaze lingering a little once it swept over Alex’s throat and lips, before meeting his eyes again. It gave Alex the exact direction his act had to go in.

Alex licked his lips, hand sweeping up the side of his neck to brush a few longer locks behind his ear. “Men like you,” he replied.

Roman threw his head back with a laugh. “Good answer. Men like me, hmm? And what does that make me, then?”

Alex shook his head, shaking some hair from his eyes, before moving his hand to rest on the man’s knee. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he continued with a giggle, “but I hear you’re here eh…” He looked around them before he leaned in closer, his lips nearly at the man’s ear. “Looking for some company, if you know what I mean.”

When Alex looked at the man again, his eyes appeared darker than before. “Hmm, maybe…” Roman rasped, a hand coming up to caress Alex’s arm. “We’ve never met, have we?”

“Yet you let me on here,” Alex countered.

Roman narrowed his eyes at that, sipping his drink before flashing Alex a grin. “You’re awfully observant,” he said. “Let’s say you are correct, the reason you mentioned is indeed the reason I’m here, and the reason I let you up here.”

Alex hummed and nodded. “You wouldn’t happen to know a place a little more… private, wou—”

“I’ve only one concern,” Roman interrupted.

“And what would that be?” Alex asked.

“What about your little boyfriend?” Roman asked.

“I—my _what_?” Alex asked, confused, almost falling out of his role.

Roman pointed past Alex, who followed the line of his finger to the bar, where Miles stood. He quickly looked away once he noticed Roman and Alex looking his way, and clumsily tried to catch the straw of his drink between his lips. He was failing terribly, and Alex closed his eyes with a shake of his head and a sigh, before looking back towards Roman.

“What about him?” Alex asked.

“You tell me.”

“I can assure you that he will be none of your concern. Not once I get my way with you.” Alex's fingertips walked up the man's thigh as he held his gaze, his tongue passing over his lips once more.

Roman inhaled sharply, and shifted at the touch, covering Alex’s hand with his own. “How about I get _my_ way with _you_ , hmm? Something tells me that’s exactly what you like.”

Alex bit his lip again, nodding his head quickly. “I can do whatever you want.”

At that, Roman released a sound that came close to a growl. “Then what are we waiting for?” His eyes slid over Alex once more, his hand cupping Alex’s jaw to pull at Alex’s bottom lip with his thumb, before releasing him all together. “Let’s find another occupation for that smart mouth of yours, hmm?”

As Alex nodded again, Roman glanced around them quickly, before he got up and moved towards the stairs, pulling Alex along.

\--

Miles carefully shadowed the pair, quickly throwing some bills next to his glass before he got up to follow them. He kept his eyes on Roman's security people too, making sure he wasn't noticed. He kept a reasonable distance, until suddenly a man jumped out in front of him. Miles blinked a few times, confused, before he realized it was the man from before, who had pulled him away from Alex to dance, far less angry, far more drunk.

"I've never seen you here before!" He yelled at Miles.

“We met earlier, actually,” Miles reminded the man. “Excuse me but—”

“No!” The man yelled with a laugh. “I mean before that, man. I’ve never seen you here before today.”

Miles frantically tried to glance past him. "Yeah I'm eh, new here."

"Well, you're really hot," the man flirted. “Can I interest you in a dance? A good one, this time.”

Miles gently pushed the man aside. “Maybe some other time,” he winked. “Right now, I'm looking for, eh…”

“Right, your boyfriend,” the man muttered, maybe more to himself than to Miles. “I kinda forgot about that.”

“I… my boyf— he’s not…” Miles trailed off when the man turned his back to him.

He quickly resumed his following, panicking when he feared he'd lost his dark-haired partner, relieved when he spots him turning a corner, into the bathrooms. Miles mentally thanked the bloke who was chatting up the security guy near the toilets, and slipped past the door unseen. He waited around the corner, turning his head slightly when whispers arose from the bathroom stall that was the furthest from the door.

“So, what's your name?” Roman voice echoed from the tiled room.

“I'm eh,” Alex voice rose in a stutter. “I'm... Miles,” he said.

Miles eyes flew open wide.

_Did he just—_

“Well, Miles, I hope you're ready to be a good boy," Roman said. "Why don't you get on your knees for me?"

Miles' eyes shot to the little space under the stall where he could see two pair of feet, and he held his breath as he saw Alex fall to his knees, his boots squeaking over the floor. The sound of what was undoubtedly Roman's belt buckle clicking open rattled in his ears. Suddenly, he found himself approaching the bathroom stall.

Alex raised his voice suddenly. “As much as I’d like that, I usually like my cock with a little more pinea—”

At that same moment, Miles reached the stall, pulling the door open. “Oh, pardon me,” he said monotonously. Alex immediately turned his head, a sigh of relief escaping him when he saw Miles standing there.

“Do you mind?” Roman asked, on edge. “We're sort of in the middle of something.” He gestured from Alex back to himself.

Miles grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled him to his feet and out of the stall. Alex stumbled backwards, but Miles held onto him, keeping him up.

“Ah, wait,” Roman laughed. “You're the boyfriend,” he mumbled, refastening his belt.

“You’re the drug dealer,” Miles returned, subconsciously pulling Alex behind him a little.

Roman chuckled, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “I’m aware of my reputation, but your little friend here went here willingly,” Roman said. “No drugs involved.”

Miles stepped closer to him. “Not even denying it, are you?”

“Can’t deny it, _lad_ ,” Roman replied, mocking Miles’ accent with the last word.

Miles shook his head with a laugh. Apparently this man was so full of himself and his comeback to a world of drugs, that he was eagerly telling everyone who asked about it.

“Well, that, with what I’ve seen, and your sparkling personality just make it so much easier to do this.”

Roman cocked his head. “Do what, exactly? I own this place, there’s plenty security outside—”

Miles moved forward, swiftly twisting the man’s arms behind his back with one hand before he pressed him face first into the white tiles. His free hand slammed his police badge next to the man’s face.

“My name is detective Miles Kane with the NYPD, this is my colleague Alexander Turner,” he pointed at Alex, who was also holding his badge up for the man to see. “You're under arrest for possession and distribution of an illegal substance.” Miles quickly rattled on, informing the man on his right before he tightened the handcuffs around the man’s wrists, surprisingly met with no protest whatsoever. Instead, Roman simply snickered.

“Fine. You’ve got no prove of this anyway.”

Miles smirked, giving the man a little push to get him to walk. “Won’t keep me from legally being able to detain you for the next 12 to 24 hours, mister Roman, and I plan on making those hours well worth our while. I’ve got _a lot_ of questions. And who knows, we might find some other dirt on you. As you mentioned, you’ve quite the reputation.”

As they moved from the bathroom stall, it was staggeringly quiet.

Alex halted. “Music’s off,” he remarked, almost a question. He immediately walked up in front of Miles and Roman, and pulled his gun from its holster. “I’ll go first, follow me.”

The moved towards the door and Alex opened it with his free hand, his gun covering them at all times.

“Turner!” A voice came.

“Cook?” Alex called out, lowering his gun as the blond detective approached him. “What are you doing here, inside?”

Behind Jamie, Matt appeared, and as soon Miles and Alex exited the bathroom, they noticed that the place was crowded with police. Matt made quick work of taking Roman from Miles’ hold, escorting the man towards the exit of the building.

Jamie huffed at Alex’s question. “Well, Miles’ mic informed us you we’re up to something stupid, and as soon as you said the safe word, Matt and I made work of getting uniforms here,” he explained. “What were you thinking going off script, hmm? Going off somewhere alone with him?”

“First of all, I didn’t even finish the safe word,” Alex replied, defensive and a little annoyed at Jamie’s tone. “Second, my plan to go off alone with him led to his arrest, so I hardly see what the problem is.”

“I hardly see what the problem is…” Jamie repeated. “What if Miles hadn’t been here in time? This man is so much more dangerous that he appears, Alex!”

“I know damn well what he’s capable off,” Alex yelled. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Oh, _not_?” Jamie sneered. “I mean, you were enough of an idiot to lead him away with a promise to suck his cock, right?”

Alex gasped. “You know as well as I that that was an act—”

“Was it?” Jamie snapped.

“C’mon, detective Cook… Is this truly what you think of me?”

“Alright,” Miles interrupted, literally coming between the two by taking a step forward, “This isn’t the place, agreed?” he said. Both men nodded as he continued, “No matter how, we’ve got him now, don’t we? I say we get him back to the station and try and pry some information from him.”

“He better be right about this, with his little theory,” Jamie said to Miles, poking his chest. “I’m done putting officers at risk because of his little adventures. When we have a plan, we stick to it, unless is life or death. If he can’t keep to that I’m going to have a serious talk with Homme.”

Miles nodded. “Jamie, come on, he broke this case wide open with this arrest. I know this isn’t how we usually do things, but you can’t argue that it worked, right?”

Jamie looked at him in disbelief. “I thought at least you would agree with me.” Jamie shook his head with a scornful laugh. Then he got closer to Miles, so that only the two of them could hear his next words. “After all we’ve been through together, you know as well as I that you have to stick to your plans and that one little slip up can cost lives…”

Miles felt a pang in his chest at that remark, keeping quiet and dropping his eyes to his shoes to avoid Jamie’s piercing gaze.

“I’ll move your suspect to central booking, detective. I’ll have the paperwork done so that you can get him in the box by tomorrow morning.” With that, Jamie turned on his heels, making his way towards the exit.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homme shuts Alex out of the investigation, much to Alex's frustration. Miles spends some one-on-one time with their suspect, Roman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art of interrogation... 
> 
> I have no clue what that art is, but I tried my best. 
> 
> I'm sorry for the delay on this, I just kept changing stuff. As I always say: I hope I can get the next chapter up sooner! Thank you for your interest in this story and for your kind messages here and on Tumblr. I hope you like it!

_“After all we’ve been through together, you know as well as I that you have to stick to your plans…”_

Miles closed his eyes as he closed his lips around the cigarette between his fingers, and inhaled.

_“… and that one little slip up can cost lives…”_

_“Hold on, guys, gotta get my vest!”_

Images seemed to flash before his closed eyes, painting all the pictures that haunt him day and night ever since this case began. He remembered so well… and for a second he swore he could hear the gunshots, the sirens—

“You okay?”

When Miles opened his eyes, it revealed Alex in front of him, head cocked with interest. Miles nearly jumped on his spot outside the precinct, coughing frantically and throwing the cigarette down.

“Jesus,” Miles cursed after exhaling slowly. “I’m fine,” he said then, in reply to Alex’s question.

Alex opened his mouth to protest, until a voice called out from behind him.

“Al, I’m leaving, yeah?” Alex turned, and Miles glanced past him, revealing a young woman with red hair peaking her head from a nearly as red car. She glanced at Miles shortly and then back at Alex. “Is that him?” She asked, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Alex sighed. “Jane, this is Miles,” he said. “Miles, this is Jane, I’m staying at her place. Not only am I taking advantage of her house, but also of her car, when I don’t feel like joining the morning commute.”

Jane stuck her hand out, a broad smile on her face, and Miles approached the woman to grab her hand and shake it shortly. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Miles cocked an eyebrow. “Have you now?” He cast a glance over his shoulder and watched as Alex studied his shoes. “I wish I could say the same. Though I must say, it is inspiring to finally meet the only woman in New York who can put up with her ex-boyfriend crashing her place,” he chuckled.

Jane laughed in response. “I suppose not a lot of women would put up with that, no. Especially not when her place is a pretty crappy one bedroom apartment near Washington Heights.”

“I’m taking advantage of you, love.” Alex approached the two, standing next to Miles. “Specifically of your couch.”

“It’s a good thing! Started to wonder if I had that thing just to fill up the small space. Now it’s actually getting some use,” Jane laughed. She glanced at the small watch on her wrist and gave the two men an apologetic look. “I do really have to get going. Busy, busy, you know how it is.” She started the car. “It was good to meet you, Miles. Really good.”

“You too, Jane.” Miles offered the woman a final wave goodbye before she tucked her head back into the car.

With a final, “Bye, Aly!”, Jane drove off, disappearing out of sight when she turned the corner.

Miles put his hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing. Carefully, he glanced over at Alex, and nearly laughed again when he saw the blush creeping up his partner's face, but before he could even say anything, the smaller of the two spoke up,

“Under _no_ circumstance, can you call me that,” he immediately warned the man. “I… I can’t believe she said that. Forget you heard that.”

"Sure." Miles turned on his heels, towards the front door of the building. He glanced over his shoulder, finding Alex still standing still by the sidewalk. He smirked, before asking, "You coming, Aly?"

"Dammit, Miles!"

\--

The elevator doors slipped closed with a small mechanical click before the elevator began moving, taking the two detectives to floor six.

“Listen, Miles–”

“Alex, don’t even try,” Miles sighed. “We’ve been over this multiple times, including this morning, when you called me. When we moved Roman to booking Homme specifically told you that you have to win back your place on this case after that stunt you pulled in the club. He really does not want you in the interrogation room, so I do the interrogation, end of story.”

The elevator came to a stop with a soft _ding!_ , indicating they had reached the sixth floor.

Alex groaned. “I just want to do something.”

“You can,” Miles assured him with a grin, walking out of the elevator. “You can watch from the camera room.”

“Really funny,” Alex said, making a face and quickly following after Miles.

They’d barely come out of the elevator, when Homme was approaching them, face stern. “Detectives, good to see you,” he said, voice surprisingly soft. “Follow me.”

Alex and Miles exchanged a quick look, before following Homme. He led them to the camera room next to the interrogation rooms.

Every interrogation room had a camera, aimed at the suspect and his interrogator. The cameras automatically saved all the filmed footage to the precinct’s computer log. They also allowed other detectives to follow the interrogation closely. There was a green button next to each screen, which gave off a soft buzzing sound in the interrogation room of choice, alerting the interrogating officer they had to leave and get to the camera room, mainly when new evidence was uncovered or if a different interrogation strategy was in order.

On the screen marked with ‘interrogation room 2’, they found two familiar faces: Roman and detective Helders.

“Helders transported Roman from holding to the second box,” Homme elaborated. “As you know, I want Kane in.” Homme shot Alex a deliberate look. “You, Helders and I will watch from here.”

“I’d love to back detective Kane up in there,” Alex tried, but Homme was already shaking his head.

“Kane goes in alone, Turner. This is not up for debate.”

“Understood, sir.”

“We don’t have a lot to go on with this suspect,” Homme admitted. “The theories the two of you have come up with are promising, but we can’t count on circumstantial evidence to carry this case. We need to get him to run his mouth. The only evidence we have on him is his link to the Warehouse Down project. Pin him down on that, detective.”

Miles nodded. “I will, sir.”

“Please, remember you’re dealing with a highly disciplined criminal here. He will probably have had training in this, but just get him to keep talking.”

“Sir?” Miles asked, slightly confused.

“What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think we’ll be able to get him to confess. And that might not even be our goal, with this. Keep in mind that we’re after the person who carried out Roman’s tasks. If we’re correct Roman is just… the one giving the order; not the actual killer in this scenario. I need you to keep him talking until he reveals something that might seem insignificant to him, but could lead us to more.” Homme took the case files from the table and thrust them into Miles’ hands. “Good luck.”

Miles released a shaky breath.

He felt like he was gonna need that luck.

\--

"Mister Roman, good to see you here.” Miles swung the door open, letting it fall back into its lock behind him. “As you know, my name's detective Miles Kane, I'll be leading this interrogation." Miles put his case folders down on the table separating Roman and him, before he sat down on the chair opposite the man. Miles wasn’t sure why, maybe it was seeing the man in decent lighting for the first time, but he seemed different than before. Confident, smug, yet there was a hint of nerves…

" _Miles_ ," Roman snickered, eyes glimmering with mischief.. "The _real_ Miles. Good stunt your partner pulled. Where is he, anyway?”

Miles drew a breath, “I’m afraid detective Turner is unavailable at the moment.”

“Ah, I see. It’s just… I believe he owes me something.”

Miles willed himself to not respond to the man's comment, instead focussing on the interrogation. "Sir, we've read you your rights, you're aware you have the right to an attorney?" He pointed at the empty chair next to the man.

"You have read me my rights, don't worry about a technicality now,” Roman said, sounding almost annoyed Miles would even ask such a question. “I'm representing myself."

"Why is that?" Miles asked, not able to hide the surprise in his voice. “Just out of curiosity.”

Roman chuckled. "Because I'm innocent, of course."

“And how are you gonna prove that?”

Roman contemplated that question, before slumping back in his chair with a knowing smile, answering, "I believe the question here is: How are you gonna prove I'm not?"

“Touché.” Miles averted his gaze, shooting the camera in the corner of the room a quick glance before he turned back to the suspect sitting across from him. “Tell me about Warehouse Down,” he continued, folding his hands on the table. “What is it, exactly?”

Roman sighed. “It’s a pain in my ass, that’s what it is. You see, a big portion of warehouses in the city are mine. Warehouse Down is… a fund where people can donate money to. With the right amount of money, I have to accept the offer and sell my property to the State of New York. They will take the warehouses down and built a multifunctional new part of the city center.”

“You’re not willing to give your property up against a good price?” Miles inquired. “Why is that?”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “I need those warehouses for my business, detective. It’s far more valuable to me to protect what I’ve built up. Besides, last time I checked making a living for yourself wasn’t a crime.”

“All depends on how you make that living, I suppose.” Miles replied, raising an eyebrow and pursing his lips as he thought of what to say next. “Let’s say hypothetically, you would sell your property to the State of New York, what will be built in place of your warehouses, sir?”

“Like I told you: A multifunctional city center. Some shopping mall, school, a rich law firm…”

“Funny you should mention those especially,” Miles said, reaching for one of the case files he brought with him. He opened it, taking three photos out and lining them up before Roman. “These three women. A storeowner, a school teacher and a lawyer, they had made large donations. If they would donate some more Warehouse Down could buy your warehouses.”

Roman frowned. “What exactly is this about?”

“Murder, mister Roman. The brutal strangulation of these three women, here, in New York City.

“Murder?!” The other man choked out. “I don’t know what kind of precinct you’re running here these days, but you arrested me for possession and distribution of an illegal substance, not for _murder_.”

“Sir—”

“Save your breath, detective, I won’t talk about this.”

“If you’re innocent as you say you are, then why not give out a statement while you’re here?” Miles leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

“And what exactly is in it for me?”

Miles simply stared at him for a while. He needed Roman to keep talking, and apparently that would only work if he would get something in return. Miles side eyed the camera again as an idea crept up on him. He needed to bluff, he knew he had to. Quickly, he decided the murders were more important than any other charge when he said,

“We’re willing to drop the illegal substances charge for which you were originally arrested, if you agree to cooperate in the investigation about these murders.”

Roman wasted no time in accepting the offer.

A short buzzing filled the room.

\--

A bit nervous, Miles opened the door to the camera room and found three pairs of eyes staring at him. He approached the others slowly, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers before softly asking, “and?”

It was silent for a while. Alex chewed on his bottom lip, eyes going from Miles to Homme and back. Matt began roaming through a case file that was on the table, _pretending_ to read whatever was in there. Homme stared at him for a while, before he said,

“I think the deal will be the only way to get him to talk.”

Matt’s head shot up in surprise and Alex sighed in relief.

“I think so too, sir,” Miles replied, voice a bit shaky. “I figured getting him for the murders would be a priority He’s nervous for some reason, I think with the right questions I can break him, if I’m lucky.”

“Agreed,” Homme said with a nod. “I think our best chances will be to make him think we have more on him than we do. I want you to use detective Turner’s theory and present it as evidence. Helders, would you and Cook get the paperwork for this deal ready?”

Alex took a step forward. “Sir, I could also go with detective H—”

“Turner, I think we agreed I don’t want you involved in this right now,” Homme sighed. He turned towards Matt and Miles again. “I want him signing off on that deal within the hour. Let’s hope the next thing he’s going to put his signature under is his confession…”

Matt nodded. “Absolutely, sir. I’ll go find Cook.”

\--

Turned out that Roman’s signature was barely readable, seemed to have an endless amount of curly letters and took up half of the sheet. Finally, with one last dot, he brought the pen from the paper, handing it back to Miles. “Thank you, detective,” he smiled.

“Yeah, well… you can’t win ‘em all, can you?” Miles murmured. “Let’s carry on.”

Roman nodded. “By all means, ask away.”

_Use detective Turner’s theory and present it as evidence._

“I eh, _we_ have anonymous sources that confirm that you’ve been busy rebuilding your old business, is that correct?”

“Did they now…”

“It’s a simple question. Yes or no?” Miles pressed, leaning closer to the man.

“I’ve recently gotten back into business, yes.” Roman nodded quickly.

“Must be difficult,” Miles said. “Starting over after three long years…”

“My warehouses and my club were a good starting point. I’m almost back to my old…status,” Roman replied smugly.

“Still, you had lost your credit. I can imagine that made that your old business partners and employees weren’t all that excited to re-join you,” Miles suggested.

“That’s how it goes in life, doesn’t it, detective?” Roman replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Some people stay, some people go… shows you where their loyalty lies. Besides, hiring some new blood is… refreshing, to say the least.”

“Bet they’d be willing to do about anything for you.”

“They do what I ask of them,” Roman shrugged. “That’s what I pay them for.”

Miles nodded as he pushed the three photos of their victims to the left side of the table. He took three new photos from the file and placed them on the right side of the table. Photos of their suspect. “Do you recognize this man?”

“All three, or just one of those?” Roman asked, slightly confused.

“Actually, this is the same man,” Miles informed him. “Do any of these three look familiar to you?”

Roman folded his hands and leaned over the table to take a closer look at the photos. He hummed. “They do not.”

“So this is not an employee of yours?”

“A jogger, a plumber, some lawyer… Why would I hire a person who clearly enjoys a game of dress-up?” Roman laughed.

Miles tapped the three photos of the victims. “To kill these three women, giving other investors a warning, as well as giving you assurance that the property your precious drug stash is located would stay yours? After all, you just told me your personnel would do anything for you, that is what you pay them for.”

“I… no—”

“You did not just say that?” Miles asked.

“I… I did, but I did not give out such an order,” Roman said.

What was remarkable was that Roman’s face didn’t change. Not even a twitch of his eyebrows, or his lips, nothing to indicate he was lying. Then again, this man was a trained criminal who had probably lied his way through most of his life.

“I suppose you wouldn’t mind giving me a list of your employees, then. Especially of your recently hired personnel.”

“Of course not...”

“Good. My colleagues—”

“…I just need to see a search warrant, signed by a judge, of course,” Roman finished.

Miles clenched his jaw. “Of course, we’ll get that.”

Roman laughed. “Pardon me, detective, but you won’t. Not without any evidence. And there won’t be any, because I’m innocent of any wrong doing.”

A shiver ran down Miles’ spine. Something had changed… Roman’s mood had turned. Quickly, Miles decided to try another approach. If he tried to pin the murders on Roman himself he might try to save himself. Or confess…

“A-alright, then let’s establish your whereabouts between September 29 and October 20,” Miles said. “To be specific—”

“No need to be specific, I have an alibi.” A broad grin appeared on Roman’s face.

_What._

Miles looked at him with wide eyes. “How can you be sure? I didn’t name any specific dates, sir. Are you trying to tell me you were accounted for for _all_ those days between September 29 and October 20?”

“Yes,” the man replied smugly. “You see, detective, I began renovating my club Hysteria on September 14. From then, until November 2, I was there, day and night to supervise the progress. Building two dancefloors on top of each other was quite a task and I had to be sure people were doing as they were told.”

“That still doesn’t prove you didn’t use one of your employees to take care of it for you.”

“Detective, I have an alibi, and you have no proof of any of this.” Roman adjusted his tie and began buttoning his jacket. “Now, I do believe we just struck a wonderful deal, didn’t we? Which means you won’t- or rather, _can’t_ , charge me. You’ve questioned me, about something I wasn’t even arrested for, might I add and if I’m correct your time is up,” he said, glancing at his watch. “That means I can leave until you have some solid evidence, right?”

Miles closed his eyes with a sigh. He had been played. Roman had gotten into his head… He knew his rights all too well and he was right. He was getting away; nothing on the murders, immunity for the illegal substances charge…

“Yes,” Miles admitted, jaw tense. “As long as we will be able to contact you. You can’t leave the county until you’re no longer a person of interest in his case. My colleague will take care of the paperwork and escort you towards the exit.”

“Wonderful.” Roman got up from his chair, gently pushing it back against the table once he was standing. “Oh and detective? No hard feelings. You’re just doing your job. You and your…. partner are always welcome in my club. In fact, please tell me if you plan on coming around again so you won’t have to knock out my employees. And so that we can be on our best behaviour.”

He gave Miles a pat on his shoulder, before he pulled the door open and disappeared out of sight.

\--

“Take care of it, Cook,” Homme said in regard of the paperwork for Roman’s replease. “And draw it out, please. I want this to be as inconvenient as possible for that parasite... and check his alibi after, go to that club if you have to, canvas the area…”

Jamie had joined Matt, Alex and Homme in the camera room and had watched the interrogation go sideways. He nodded and left the camera room swiftly to escort Roman to his office. Alex muttered something about a bathroom break, before following after Jamie.

“Hey, Jamie.” Alex grabbed the other man by the arm and yanked until they were face to face. “Listen. I know I messed up. It was stupid of me to abandon the plan,” Alex admitted.

“What were you thinking?” Jamie hissed. “You were supposed to have Miles’ back in there, in that interrogation room, but instead you had to play the hero yesterday and get yourself in trouble. Did you know Homme nearly kicked you off the case?”

“I just wanted—“

“You’re lucky Miles put in a good word for you, god knows why…” Jamie continued, ignoring the man’s murmurs.

“I know, trust me. I promise I’ll be more careful,” Alex nearly whispered. “I just wanted to help.”

“You should’ve thought of that before. I don’t appreciate you putting one of my closest friends in danger. Or yourself, for that matter.” Jamie snapped. “Now, let me go, I need to do my work.” He pulled himself free from Alex’s grip and turned around.

“So do I!” Alex yelled. It caused Jamie to turn around again, and Alex continued, much softer. “Please, Jamie. Homme is shutting me out of the investigation and… I want to do something. I _need_ to do something.”

Jamie gnawed at his bottom lip as he watched Alex’s look of pure desperation. Though he thought it a ridiculous stunt Alex had pulled, it had led them to their suspect. He quickly concluded that Alex wasn’t a bad detective, just a radical one who needed to put some more thought in his actions. Didn’t mean he deserved to be shut out.

“Fine. I might have something for you,” Jamie sighed. “It’s nothing too exciting, though,” he warned when the man nearly jumped in excitement.

“I don’t care, as long as I can do something.” Alex smiled.

“I have a dinner with Katie planned later, for our anniversary,” Jamie began. “How about I take care of Roman’s release and you check his alibi, canvas the area around the club and all that. Can you do that?”

“Can I do that? I’m already on my way,” Alex grinned, pulling his notebook from his breast pocket. He sprinted towards the elevator. “Thank you, Jamie!”

“Don’t make me regret this!” Jamie yelled in reply, but he doubted the brunet had heard him.

\--

“He’s our guy, I know he is,” Miles murmured, rubbing the bridge of his nose, looking over his shoulder to look at Roman who was seated across from Jamie in his and Matt’s office.

Homme had pulled Miles into his office after he had to drag him out of the second box.

“It’s all supposed to add up, but it doesn’t. I need that warrant for his employee log. That’s to say he even has one… But I don’t have any evidence, so we won’t find out anyway. I’m so sorry, sir. I messed it up.”

Homme shook his head and placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder. “You didn’t, detective. These kind of people... they’re trained to get into your head, to manipulate and act their way out of a situation like this. In hindsight, I should never have let you go in there alone, I apologize,” Homme admitted. “You did your best, Miles. I’ll try to get that warrant, but I too am not optimistic it will go through. I will, however, put a security detail on him. When that bastard moves, I want to know.”

“He’ll slip up, hopefully. Maybe that’ll give us something to go on then.” Miles reasoned.

“Exactly. Good work today, detective,” Homme said, his hand slipping from Miles’ shoulder. “Go home, get some rest. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

Miles gave Homme a small smile. “I’ve got some paperwork stacked up but, thank you, sir. I really appreciate it.”

He left the office feeling heavy. The investigation was coming to another dreadful stop of no leads and no evidence, and he couldn’t help but feel like there was some sort of puzzle piece he was missing in all of this. Just as he meant to walk towards his and Alex’s shared office, his phone in his pocket vibrated. Fumbling, he fished the device from his pocket.

_Incoming call. Unknown._

“What is it?” Miles snarled into the phone after he slid the green button to the side.

“Detective Kane.”

Miles sighed. “Who is this?”

“How's the investigation going?”

Miles paused with a frown. “I'm not allowed to discuss that with civilians,” he said then.

“Ah, of course… Not even with the man you're trying to catch, though?”

Another pause. Half running, he made his way over to Alexa’s office, heart pounding and eyes wide. He swung the door open, and Alexa was speaking before he could even say anything,

“Miles, ever heard of knocking?” she asked, not even looking up.

Miles pressed the phone into his shoulder. “Alexa,” he whispered, causing Alexa to look up and take Miles in, wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “It’s him.” He said, gesturing towards his phone.

Alexa nodded shortly. “I’m on it… Tracing now.”

Miles pressed the phone back to his ear, and as if on cue, the stranger on the other side asked,

“Trying to trace my call, I assume?”

Miles quickly forced himself to think of everything he had learned in regard of situations like this, but came up blank. Keeping the call going seemed like a logical thing to do. He ignored the question, replying with another of his own, "So, who am I talking to?"

A laugh. “Oh, Miles, I already told you that didn't I? You’re after me, and here I am.”

Miles looked over at Alexa, helpless, unsure what to do. “Keep him on for at least 10 more seconds,” Alexa whispered.

Okay. He could manage that.

“How silly of me,” Miles said. “In that case, I will introduce myself then—”

“I appreciate the manners, detective, I do, but I don't have time to chat. I assume you've almost traced this call, so I have to let you go. It was nice talking to you, I have a feeling we'll see each other again, soon... Oh, and could you tell Mr. Turner he is staying with a _very_ pretty lady? Such a pity…”

 _Click._ Call ended. Stunned, Miles stared at the black screen of his phone.

“What’s going on here?” Matt asked, walking into Alexa’s office.

“Miles just got acquaintanced with our killer via a phone call,” Alexa replied, typing frantically. Then she hit enter.

“Wh…” Matt walked around, standing next to Miles behind Alexa’s desk.

_Phone location: TRACED  
Account holder info: TRACED_

“Did we get him?” Miles asked frantically. “Where’s he calling from?”

“It’s traced! Location and account info coming through right now!” Alexa yelled.

Everyone collectively held their breath, until a map of New York popped up, a small, red dot standing out against the green and black background.

“The phone has been deactivated, but the call originated from an apartment near Washington Heights, I’ll be able to narrow it down in a bit,” Alexa said. “Does that mean anything to you, Miles?”

The mention of a very pretty lady Alex was staying with, the call originating from somewhere near Washington Heights…

“Yes…” Miles gasped. "It does."

He got to her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles and Alex both struggle with their feelings in the aftermath of Jane's death. A surprising lead presents itself, resulting in a shocking discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am, finally updating. Sorry it took so long! I've added some tags to the taglist. This chapter contains some things that may be triggers for some people, such as death/death by suicide, so here's a heads up! Thanks to everyone who's still reading this and comments on it, you're all wonderful.

Miles doesn’t recall the last time he dreaded arriving at a crime scene this way. He pushed the door open to find Nick bowed over the victim. Only when he moved back, Miles could be sure that it was actually Jane who was their victim. Miles clamped his hand over his mouth, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Jane’s red locks were splayed over the floor, her face was pale, and her neck was covered in dark purple bruises. A small line of blood dribbled from a wound on her head.

“His doing?” Miles asked softly, stepping closer to Nick.

Nick nodded at him. “Head wound is new, but it isn’t what killed her.” He motioned towards Jane’s neck. “That, however, is. Manual strangulation. The usual. It has to be him.”

Miles sighed, and cursed as he looked away, balling his fists by his sides. Another victim. A personal matter, this time. He thought this would be the worst part. That was, until he heard distant screams behind him.

“Jane! Jane!”

_Alex._

Immediately, Miles turned around and sprinted towards the door, where he collided with Alex. The dark haired detective’s expression was wild as he panted and tried to claw his way past Miles, who was holding him off.

“Let me go, Kane!”

“I don’t want you to see this. Trust me, A—” Miles’ words died down when Alex hit him on the jaw. Miles staggered backwards, his grip loosening as his eyes twisted shut at the sudden impact.

“Fuck, Miles, you don’t get to make that decision!” Alex yelled, still attempting to slip from Miles’ hold. “She’s one of my best mates, I need to—”

“Dammit, Alex!” Miles recovered quickly and pushed the man into the wall behind him. “I’m telling you as a colleague, hell, I’m telling you as a _friend_ , because I…” he hesitated for a moment, glancing around him, before whispering, “I care about you. I don’t want you in there right now.”

That caused Alex to gradually stop squirming in Miles’ hold, until he slumped back against the wall. Miles slowly let him go, and took a deep breath.

“Is it really her?” Alex asked in a soft whisper.

Miles watched as Alex’s eyes filled with tears when he nodded at his question. The detective slowly slid down the wall, his head falling forward into his hands. Miles closed his eyes when he heard a soft sob leave the man on the floor, before taking his place next to him against the door.

Presently, he’s seated next to Alex once more. This time on a bench, in the back of the church. Occasionally, the man looked at Miles, and Miles acted like he didn't see his puffy doe eyes. Instead, he watched as a woman took the stage and swallowed the lump in his throat as she delivered a speech about her daughter.

Alex head fell on Miles' shoulder and he sniffed, then rubbed his nose with the sleeve of his suit’s jacket. Tears dripped from his cheek, wetting the fabric of Miles' suit. Miles turned his head, and without putting much thought into it, he placed a kiss on the man’s crown. “We'll catch the bastard who did this, I promise you we will,” he muttered into Alex’s hair.

“Thank you,” came a croaked reply.

Suddenly, Alex's hand clasped Miles’ and squeezed it tightly. Miles didn't question it, and only pulled Alex closer by wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

\--

Miles pretended he didn’t notice Alex’s bloodshot eyes every morning the man entered the precinct, and certainly pretended that he didn’t notice him slipping whiskey into every morning coffee. He was mourning, and who was Miles to tell him what to do, or how to do it? Not after he tried to convince Alex to stay in his hotel for a while, to sleep, to regain some energy, but that had almost resulted in another punch in the face. And _certainly_ not after Homme tried to put Alex off this case, after which Alex gave him the biggest, boldest speech Miles had ever heard anyone give the captain, succeeding to convince him as well. The man was more determined than ever to figure this case out, and Miles had to drag him out of the precinct every night, to make sure he would even leave the place at all.

Miles also pretended he didn’t remember his own confessions, and their more than collegial advances towards each other. And though Miles thought about it more than he liked to admit, they never did talk about their kiss outside of Hysteria...

He also couldn’t apply his usual method of clearing his mind, which was work. The past two weeks after Jane’s murder had been uneventful. Roman’s alibi checked out, and his security detail showed no unusual activity. With no leads, there was nothing the group of detectives could do then go over evidence, hearing and watching tapes and bank information, over and over again.

But then…

“Apparently there’s someone calling in about Dan Carve.”

Miles raised an eyebrow at Jamie, whose head peaked around the door of Miles and Alex’s office.

“Dan Carve?” Miles asked, shaking his head and blinking in confusion.

“First victim’s ex-boyfriend,” Jamie reminded him. “I dunno if it’s gonna be something, so I don’t want to worry Alex yet, but they’ll put him through to my phone in a few.”

As if on command, the phone on Jamie’s desk began to ring, and the blond disappeared from the doorway. Miles followed him quickly, throwing the door shut behind him, before making his way to Jamie and Matt’s office. He found Matt and the captain there as well, before focusing his gaze on Jamie, who took a deep breath and grabbed the receiver, bringing it to his ear.

“Detective Jamie Cook speaking.”

Everyone watched impatiently as Jamie muttered into the phone. “I understand, sir,” “We will certainly check it out, sir,” “Of course, no problem. Have a good day as well.” And then he hung up with a sigh.

“So?” Miles blurted out.

Jamie frowned. “Dunno. Concerned neighbour said he heard some strange noises a couple of days ago, and Carve failed to come to their appointment last night. Caller felt like a phone call to the police was in order.”

“I don’t understand why they called here…” Matt trailed off, biting his lip as he became lost in thought.

“Me neither,” Jamie said. “I feel like they only put it through to homicide because it was about Carve. Even though he was a person of interest in this case it might not have anything to do with it.”

“So, we let that go as a possible lead?”

Everyone turned their head to find Alex leaning against the doorpost.

Miles worried his bottom lip between his teeth at the sight of his colleague, suddenly hit by a wave of concern. Truth was, Alex looked a mess. His hair had gotten much longer compared to the day he came to the precinct, he had not gotten it cut since, and by now, the long, greasy curls stuck to his face and neck. His face was much thinner, making his cheeks look even more hollow. To top it off, he wore a white shirt that was wrinkled and full of coffee stains.

“Dan Carve,” Alex continued, stepping inside the office, wobbling slightly as he put his coffee mug down on Matt’s desk. “The ex-boyfriend of the first New York victim, correct?” Alex glared at Jamie. “Did you plan on telling me, Cook? Or were you gonna swipe this call under the rug?”

“O-of course not,” Jamie stuttered, cheeks turning pink. “Honestly. I just… I didn’t want to give you false hope or anything. I was definitely planning on looking into this, Alex.”

Alex nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, that was… I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off with a sigh, gesturing with his hands.

“It wasn’t Carve himself, just a flatmate. I’ve literally just hung up with him.”

“I want you to check it out,” Homme suddenly spoke up. “It’s the first thing we’ve gotten in _weeks_. Personally, I think it’s one hell of a coincidence that someone would call here about a person of interest in _this case_. It’s been full of these strange occurrences. I want answers, you want answers, and we certainly owe it to the victims and their families to look at every possible lead in this case. No time to waste, in my opinion.”

“Agreed,” Jamie nodded. He got up and rummaged around a case file on his desk. “I’ve got the address here somewhere, from when Miles and I interrogated—Gotcha!” He held the paper up with a small, careful smile.

“Good,” Homme said, getting up. “I’ll get us a warrant.”

\--

The ink on the search warrant was barely dry when Miles slipped behind the steering wheel of his car. Next to him, Alex fastened his seatbelt before pushing his hair from his face and blinking heavily. Miles watched him for a beat, before starting the car with a sigh.

Dan Carve wasn’t ruled as dangerous. Still, Homme insisted that his team would approach it this way, given the situation. This meant the whole team was strapped in a bulletproof vest, and foreseen of their weapon and an earpiece. They’d follow protocol, meaning the team would approach the building from all possible sides to have eyes on the whole apartment complex.

The first few minutes of the ride were silent. Miles bit the inside of his cheek, mind racing to think of something to say, until he eventually settled on,

“How are you holding up?”

Immediately, he wished he hadn’t asked _that_. As if it wasn’t fucking obvious Alex was not holding up _at all_. Of course, it would be unlike him to admit that.

“Miles,” Alex croaked, annoyed. “Not now.”

“Right,” Miles sighed. “Let’s not talk about it. That’s what we always do, anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex scoffed, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know, Al!” Miles’ voice was high-pitched, slightly indignant. “We kiss, and then we don’t talk about it, we hold hands without giving it a second thought, and we don’t ever talk about it, so I guess this can just go on the list, right?”

Alex laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you and I both know that was just…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely.

“What?” Miles pressed, favouring the sight of Alex next to him over his sight on the road. “Just what, Al? Because I think you and I both know it felt like more that ‘just’ something.” He eyed the road again and took a quick turn, nearly running a red light.

Next to him, Alex was silent, staring out the window. Then his head turned, eyes finding Miles’, tired, red, but mostly pleading with him to drop the subject.

Miles struggled, knowing this was something they had to discuss, but also knowing this was a terrible time to do so. Suddenly, the decision was made for him when Homme’s voice sounded from the earpiece.

“Time to take position,” he says. Then, snarling, he adds, “C’mon, Kane, hurry up and steer that car into the parking lot, we haven’t got all day.”

With a sigh, Miles follows orders.

\--

Miles heart pounded in his chest as they made their way to the third floor, the floor where Carve’s apartment was located. As Homme said, everything about this case was full of strange things, and he was nervous about what they would stumble upon. On the other side, his rational thoughts told him there most likely wouldn’t be anything to stumble upon.

Behind him, Alex, Jamie and Matt also rushed up the stairs, heavy thuds of boots echoing around them. Homme had stayed behind in his vehicle in case something unexpected happened and they’d need an officer on the road.

All four kneeled by the door to the third floor hallway.

“Okay, one more time,” Miles whispered. “If he doesn’t open, Alex and I go in. You two stay here, in case he comes home.” He gave Jamie and Matt a short nod. “Understood?"

All detectives nodded shortly, before getting up again and entering the hall. Once they located Carve’s apartment, Miles cleared his throat before he banged his fist against the door, yelling “Daniel Carve, NYPD, open up!”

No reply.

“Daniel Carve, this is the NYPD, we are allowed to use force.”

When there was no reply again, Alex wasted no time in positioning himself in front of the door and kicking it open. With his gun in hand, he entered the apartment, Miles following behind him. Frantically, they swung their guns in the opposite direction, covering each other, until they realized there wasn’t anything they needed cover from.

“Livingroom’s clear,” Alex yelled, loud enough for Jamie and Matt to hear. He turned towards Miles. “You go for the kitchen, I’ll check the bathroom.” He turned, gun raised, and stepped towards the door to the bathroom.

Miles nodded shortly, silently allowing Alex to take control over the operation. He raised his gun out in front of him as well, and proceeded towards the kitchen. Carefully, he gave the door a small push, checking the first corner. When he entered, checking the rest of the room, he gasped.

“Bathroom is clear,” Alex informed, voice closing in from behind Miles. “What about—Oh my god.”

In front of them, Dan Carve dangled from his ceiling, a rope tied around his neck, a fallen chair by his feet and death in his eyes.

\--

“Pacing around isn’t going to make him come out of there any quicker, you know?”

Alex paused and looked over at Miles, pulling a face before he continued his walk in front of the door to Homme’s office, biting at one of his fingernails.

The captain was on the phone, discussing the status of the case, and once that door opened, they’d know where they stood.

“Any news?” Jamie asked, peeking around the door of his office.

Miles and Alex both shook their heads, and just as they did so, the door to Homme’s office opened. Both whipped their heads around at the sound of the creaking of the door. They stared at Homme expectantly, anticipation thick in the air.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Homme asked. “Get inside. Helders! Cook! You too,” he barked, and almost immediately, Jamie and Matt raced towards the captain’s office.

“And?’ Alex asked as soon as Matt closed the door behind himself.

Homme sat down behind his desk, leaning back into his chair as he looked at each detective individually. “I just got off the phone with the district attorney. O’Malley ruled Dan Carve’s death a suicide, based on the angle of the marks on his neck. CSU swiped Carve’s apartment for prints, they only found his own. On top of that, they found a suicide letter written by Carve, in which he admits to the murders of seven women in LA and in New York. Our victims.” A small smile spread across Homme’s face. “Congratulations, gentlemen. It took us a while, but we closed the case.”

Miles let out a sigh of relief, watching with a smile as Jamie and Matt hugged and patted at each other’s back. He turned to share his happiness with Alex, but found him the opposite of happy. He was staring off with a frown on his face. Miles could practically see the older detective think, and shuffled closer to him.

“Watcha thinking about?” He asked softly. “Jane, isn’t it? We brought her justice, Al, we—”

“He didn’t kill them,” Alex said, his head lifting up so that he could look at Miles. “He—What about—”

Miles frowned in return. “What? He wrote a letter, Alex. He admitted—he _confessed_ to murdering them.”

“Captain,” Alex said, raising his voice, ignoring Miles. “I’d like to see the confession letter. I have a lot of doubts. What about Carve’s alibi? And what was his motive? Are there any records of him traveling to LA? I want to look into—”

Homme interrupted him with a laugh, hands landing on Alex’s shoulders. “Turner, we have a handwritten confession. He did it.” He let go of Alex’s shoulders and grabbed one hand in two of his own. “Detective, thank you for all the wonderful work you’ve done for the NYPD, you’ve been a wonderful addition to the team. I’ve signed off on your transfer paper. You’re back with the LAPD.

Miles’ head shot up at that, eyes wide. He hadn’t realized closing this case would mean that Alex would go back to the LAPD…

“Sir, no. I can’t go back yet. There’s loads of things to investigate. If you’d just let me—”

Homme dropped Alex’s hand with an annoyed sigh. “Turner, I appreciate your efforts, but we caught the killer. The DA already closed this case. It’s over. You should let it go and be happy to find justice for your friend.”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” Alex replied flatly.

Miles watched as Alex’s hand balled to fists by his side, his lips forming a thin line and his face turning red. Quickly, Miles reached for his hand, squeezing in reassurance but keeping it out of view. “Wanna go for a smoke?” He asked quickly. “Might be our last together,” he adds to persuade the other.

Alex pulled his hand free from Miles’, striding over towards the elevators.

“You coming or what?” He yelled.

And Miles followed quick

\--

“Hung himself…” Miles huffed. "Fits his mo."

“It doesn’t, though,” Alex said, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth. The killer’s M.O. is _manual_ strangulation, not lingual,”

“Can’t exactly kill yourself with your own hands, can you?”

That got a small smile out of Alex. “We could debate about that, but no matter the circumstances, this doesn’t fit this killer.”

Miles frowned.

Alex elaborated.

“If I were to profile this killer, I’d say he likes the kills, and he wants to benefit the aftermath of it. Revel in the recognition he receives, you know? Why go through all this trouble of killing women in LA, then in New York, calling in your own fake tips, only to hang yourself in the peace and quiet of your own apartment with a handwritten confession? Not to mention he has an alibi and no motive. It makes no sense to me, it really doesn’t.”

Miles silently took another drag of his cigarette. Alex was right. It all seemed so… _perfect_. The perfect evidence, the perfect confession letter… That weren’t the only question marks. Why specifically these women? Why Jane? It suddenly became painfully obvious to Miles that the DA and Homme wanted to close this case just for the sake of being done with it, ignoring the lack of evidence. There would be no trouble of an expensive trial if their killer was already dead.

Miles suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

“So, what do you say?” He asked, unsure what to do with this information.

“All I know is that it doesn't sit right with me, and that I’d like to continue the investigation.” Alex shrugged.

Miles nodded. “I see what you mean, but there’s no way that Homme’s gonna let us do that. Or the DA, for that matter, not with a literal handwritten confession on their hands.”

The two looked at each other in silence, finishing their cigarettes, until Alex suddenly spoke up.

“We could continue anyways…”

“You wanna start a private investigation?” Miles scoffed. “How do you see that happening? Literally everything connected to this case is locked inside the precinct.” Miles sighed. “And you’re going back to LA,” he reminded the man.

“Listen, Miles, I’m _sure_ Carve isn’t our killer,” Alex said. “You know how important this is to me. I didn’t come all the way to New York to let the bastard who actually did this slip through me fingers. I need to find him. For Jane.” His voice wavered, and he took a deep breath. “You’re not locked in that precinct; I know this case inside out and I have some vacation days… I’m doing this, either with or without you, but Miles, please I—”

“With me,” Miles said, surprised at his own quick reply. “I made you a promise, at Jane's funeral and I plan on sticking by it. If you think this isn’t right then… then it isn’t. I trust you.”

Alex flashed him a bright smile, and a nod in gratitude.

Miles realized he hadn’t seen him smile like that in weeks. He shuffled closer, smiling back. He wasn’t sure what this was, between the two of them, but he wanted to see this trough, together. Alex's gaze flickered over Miles' face, and suddenly he leaned forward, closer and closer to Miles. In his place, Miles stayed perfectly still, his heart racing at the close proximity. Suddenly, Alex blinked a few times and took a step back, muttering a quick, “Thank you,” as his eyes found the floor.

Miles sighed, allowing the frantic beating of his heart to slow. Once that happened, he was suddenly reminded of something.

“Your hotel is on the on the other side of town.”

Alex's head shot up before he gaped at Miles. “That’s… indeed… an inconvenience,” he stuttered. “I suppose I can find another hotel, closer to your place?”

“What?” Miles laughed and shook his head. “We’re not investigating from a bloody hotel room, Al! Not when I’ve a perfectly great guest bedroom.”

“Miles, I can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering!” Miles replied.

“Hotels here are expensive…” Alex muttered, more to himself than to Miles. He stared at Miles for a while, cheeks a bit red. “And you’re absolutely sure that wouldn’t be too much trouble?” He asked shyly.

Miles shook his head, bright smile on his face. “Absolutely sure.”

“Then would you mind helping me get me stuff?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles and Alex get their private investigation started from Miles' apartment. An unexpected run-in with an old colleague of Alex forces him to reveal a dark secret from his past, causing Miles to rethink everything he thought he knew about his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait! 
> 
> This chapter is pretty crucial, so I took some extra time with it. We're getting closer and closer, and I am very excited. Thanks, as always, for sticking with me and reading and commenting on this story. It means a lot and I cannot thank you enough. I hope you like it!

_“Miles.”_

_Miles stirred, frowning at the sound rousing him from his sleep. He rolled from his back over to his side and struggled to open his eyes, yawning before he was able to do so._

_Immediately, he was wide awake at the sight before him: Dark eyes, pale skin, brown curls fanned out over the pillow…_

_“Alex?” Miles asked in disbelief, slurring with the sleep in his voice._

_Alex laughed shortly at that, blinking at Miles a few times to allow him to wake up, before softly saying, “Hi there.”_

_Miles smiled back, moving closer to the other man until their noses practically touched. He had no idea how Alex had ended up in his bed, but he found himself not caring when he instinctively wrapped an arm around the man, palm splaying over the near porcelain white skin of his back. Alex’s warm breath fanned over his face, before he pressed his lips against Miles’ in a firm, reassuring kiss. Miles sighed into it, allowing Alex to push him back on his back, never once breaking their kiss as he straddled Miles’ hips._

_“I could really get used to this,” Alex murmured once he eventually did pull away._

_Miles nodded, then delighted in the dreamy look on the other’s face as he studied Alex for a few seconds. He hummed softly when Alex took his hands in his own and pushed them up above Miles’ head. Alex’s lips moved, but Miles couldn’t make out what the other was saying. He bounced his hips up playfully, eyes never leaving the brunet’s when he asked,_

_“What was that, love?”_

_Alex’s eyes were suddenly concerned. “I said, you need to be careful.” Alex’s hands tightened on Miles’ wrists and he pushed the man down into the mattress. “Miles, you really don’t know what you’re up against. Do you hear me?_

_Miles gulped and nodded as best as he could, squirming in Alex’s iron hold. “I remember, Al. Please, help me. What am I up against?” He asked, confused._

_“Stay away—” Alex’s voice cut out again, but when his lips stopped moving, his eyes were open wide, pupils blown and he was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. When he got no response, he began to shake Miles with the hold he had on him, hair bouncing around his face as his head shook, trying to convey his distress._

_“Alex, I can’t hear you.” Miles struggled and strained his neck in hopes of bringing their faces closer, anything to hear the man._

_Suddenly, Alex’s voice was back, loud and clear, maybe too loud, **screaming** , “Miles, stay away from—”_

Miles shot up in his bed, eyes flying open with a gasp. Bewildered, he glanced around himself, but found the side of his bed, and the rest of the bedroom, empty. With a deep sigh, he let himself fall back against his pillow, blinking at the ceiling as his sweat turned cold and his breathing and heartrate returned to normal. His mind, however, never quite followed in that. Miles rubbed his eyes, then turned his head to look at the clock beside his bed, the red digits telling him it was four in the morning.

His dreams made him certain that he was right when he thought there was something he was missing in this case. An almost warm, fondness spread through his chest realizing that this meant that Alex was right, too. They weren’t done with this case, and clearly, his subconscious was ahead of them, in some way.

_Did Alex hold the key to figuring it out?_

It was a thought that confused and irritated Miles to no end, but one he couldn’t shake. In cases he had worked previous to meeting Alex, he would always connect the dots, without any exceptions, so why was it suddenly so different now?

Of course, he knew the answer to this before that thought even entered his brain, he just didn’t allow himself to think of it too much. Instead, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and padded towards the door to the bathroom as he absentmindedly rubbed his wrists. Upon closer inspection under the bright light his bathroom provided him with, he found no marks. The part of him that was still a little in doubt - maybe wanted it to be reality - concluded that he truly had been dreaming. As he was staring at himself in the mirror, he decided on starting the day early. His mind was already racing and there was no way he’d get any sleep now.

After brushing his teeth and getting dressed in a simple t-shirt and black jeans, he carefully opened the door to his bedroom, trying to be considerate of the man occupying his guest bedroom. Once he closed the door again and fully faced his living room, he concluded his actions were for nothing.

“You’re up early.”

With a startled shake of his shoulders, Alex quickly turned on his heels. His hair was still clearly sleep tousled, and his sweatpants and slightly too big sweater did nothing to cover up that the man had simply rolled out of bed and got to work.

Miles chuckled, then murmured a quick apology and offered to make tea, which earned him a small smile and a nod in return.

Over the weekend, Miles had helped Alex get settled in his apartment, and getting their investigation started from there went surprisingly easy. Alex had gotten the green light from LA to take up his vacation days, and Miles, surprisingly, received an enthusiastic reaction from Homme when he as proposed a vacation. “ _You need it, Kane! I’ve got Cook and Helders here, we’ve got it covered!”_

Alex hadn’t been joking when he said he knew this case inside out and he’d worked all weekend to set the up their own, personal murder board, made out of paper and carton, scribbled on with markers. As Miles emerged from the kitchen, two steaming tea mugs in his hand, he stepped closer to the other man, curious to see what he was up to. He stopped to stand behind Alex, glancing over his shoulder, then quietly cursed.

“That timeline might be better than the one we had at the precinct,” he breathed. “You've truly got an eye for detail.”

Alex turned to face Miles, proud look on his face as he took one of the mugs from Miles. “Told you we’d be fine investigating on our own.”

Miles allowed himself to laugh, before sipping his tea, his mind racing at something else they had to add to the board.

Alex took a sip of his tea as well, and then let out a pleasured sigh. “English tea,” he murmured with closed eyes and a lopsided smile. “Christ, Miles, you take such good care of me, here in New York. Letting me stay over, making me tea—”

“It’s nothing,” Miles laughed, waving it away with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“—I could really get used to this.”

Miles’ head shot up at that, and he held Alex’s gaze for a few seconds, watching as Alex bit his lip as his eyes wandered. At the quote from his dream, more memories of said dream danced around in his mind. Alex’s lips on his, the weight of his body pressing him down…

“How’s the investigation?” He blurted, steering his mind in another direction. “We’ve got the murder board nearly done, I see.” He gestured towards the carton behind Alex, focussing all his attention on the black writing. “I think we just need to join the dots, so to speak, and find another lead?”

Alex sighed into his mug, and Miles had little time to wonder what that was all about when the man turned away from him. Then he nodded. “Been thinking on it, and I’ve found… nothing.”

“Really?” Miles asked, almost choking on his sip of tea. Alex shot him a near angry look over his shoulder, to which Miles quickly added, “I-I haven’t either, I just… I mean… you’re always the one to break the case open, you know?”

Alex hummed.

 “I’ve got an idea,” Miles said after a while, eyes focussed on the blocked letters that spelled ‘Hysteria’. “Since we have no access to the data from Roman’s security detail, I thought we might pay him a visit at the club? See what he’s been up to… Ask a few questions… What do you think?”

“Sounds good,” Alex nodded. “Might be able to question some people working there as well.”

“Do you think he did it?” Miles asked suddenly, realizing he hadn’t asked Alex that question before. “Order the hits, I mean?”

“I didn’t think so in the beginning.” Alex sighed. “But since eh, since Jane…You had just questioned him when it all got a much more personal tone, you know? Still, I could be paranoid and it could be some…psycho, acting independently.”  He was quiet for a while, throwing the remaining contents of his tea back. Miles remained quiet too, simply watching. “Does that make sense?” Alex asked quietly.

Miles nodded. “It does.” He gently pried the empty mug from Alex’s shaking hands, offering him a small smile. “Let’s finish the murder board. Afterwards we can have breakfast and get dressed, pay that asshole a visit. I’ve been dying for an interrogation rematch.”

\--

Admittedly, Miles felt a bit strange pulling up by Hysteria’s back entrance in broad daylight. Memories of the last time he was there flood his mind briefly, until Alex snapped him from said thoughts.

“You plan on getting out any time soon?” Miles blinked at Alex shortly, not answering, not moving. “Have you changed your mind, then?” Alex asked, voice a bit concerned as he leaned closer to Miles. “It’s gonna be okay, you know? We can cover each other at all times, we know the floorplans—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Miles mumbled, waving Alex’s concern away, then unbuckling his seatbelt. “We’ll be fine, I know. Let’s just go, yeah?”

Alex huffed as Miles turned his back on him and pushed the door open, before following his lead and opening his own door. Both detective stepped out of the car, looking at each other over the roof, before both fixing their gaze on the back entrance of the club.

By the door several men were carrying crates filled with supplies from a truck to the club.

“This was a bad idea,” Alex suddenly said, voice a bit higher in pitch than normal. He slowly walked backwards, eyes still fixed on the back entrance of the club. “We should leave. Now.”

“What? We just got here, we haven’t even spotted Roman yet—” When Miles whipped his head around to look at his partner, he immediately fell silent. He found the man as pale as death, his lips pressed together tightly. “Alex, what is it?” Miles hissed stepping towards the man.

“Al? Hey, Alex!” A voice suddenly called out. Miles watched Alex flinch at the sound. He then turned his head, searching for the source of the sound.

A man waved at them. He was short, bald and bulky, and wore a grey suit that seemed at least two sizes too small for him. Previously, he had stood off to the side, observing and dictating the men who were carrying the crates inside. The man flicked his cigarette to the ground and began walking, approaching them with a bright smile on his face as he yelled, “Alex _bloody_ Turner! Never thought I’d see you _here_.”

Miles vaguely registered Alex’s hand flexing against his, causing him to look back at Alex again. If possible, Alex had turned even paler than before, hand twitching again, fingers curling around Miles’. For a moment Miles thought Alex had grabbed onto him to flee the scene, until Alex let go a beat later, gulping and closing his eyes with a curse.

“Al, who’s that?” Miles hissed.

Alex opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was just staring at Miles helplessly as the man stepped closer and closer until he was right in front of them.

“Alexander!” The man muttered, making a face. “That’s not how you greet your friend, right?” He spread his arms and pulled the man into a hug that seemed uncomfortably tight. “The British, always modest,” he muttered when he pulled away. “Right?” He turned to Miles, cocking his head and giving him a once-over.

“So they say,” Miles replied, sticking his hand out. “Miles Kane.”

“Edgar Rogers.”

Miles eyed Alex from the corner of his eye just as the man brought his hand up, wiping his brow, avoiding eye contact with either of the two.

“What you up to here, Edgar?” Miles asked, tipping his head forward towards the club.

“What – There?” Edgar poked his thumb over his shoulder. “Just stocking supplies. Boss wants it all inside before tonight.”

Miles nodded at that. “What’s tonight, then?”

“Some party. Rich chick from upstate turning 21.” Edgar turned to Alex. “You should totally come, Al! The boys will never believe me when I tell them you’re here.”

The statement left Miles baffled, head snapping to the side to look at Alex. _How did Alex know this man, and what was he talking about?_

Edgar mistook Miles’ glances for offense. “You too, Miles,” he assured. “Any friend of Alex is a friend of mine.” Then he lowered his voice. “I bet there’ll be loads of beautiful, young… how do you guys call ‘em? Birds? Birds there, eager to meet young, successful men like us three.”

“That’s so generous, but we have to thankfully decline,” Miles pressed, flashing the man a charming smile. “I’d love to stay for a bit and have a chat, though.”

“Miles and I, we have to go,” Alex rasped, finally speaking up. “Good to see you again, Edgar.” He grabbed Miles’ upper arm, attempting to pull him along, back to the car, but Miles stood his ground. Raising his eyebrow at Alex, he put up a voice,

“C’mon, Al! Let’s stay! Wanna know more about this friend of yours.”

His voice sounded like that of someone else. It was obvious that there was something in Alex’s past that he’d desperately like to keep secret, and Miles desperately wanted to know. He couldn’t help but think this was the puzzle piece missing in this investigation, and if Alex wasn’t going to be honest with him, Miles would just have to do a little acting to pry the story from Edgar.

Alex made a face, pleading with Miles. “Miles, please, we don’t have time—”

Miles looked him straight in the eye when he interrupted his plea and asked, “When did the two of you meet, Edgar?” He whipped his head around, flashing Edgar another charming smile.

“You Alex’s new boss?”

“You…could say that.”

“Figures why the boy didn’t tell, likes to leave the past behind, that one.” He eyed Alex, who had fixated his gaze on the ground. Edgar straightened and frowned. “What’s got you so quiet, Al? Not how I remember ya.”

Alex simply glared at him. “We have to leave,” he repeated, but Miles raised his hand, silently ordering him to be quiet, and Alex obeyed with a huff.

Edgar focussed on Miles again. “Met the boy when he joined us when he had just gotten out of the academy. The old base was still in LA, y’know? Back then we got loads of rookies bored with canvassing and writing out parking tickets. They want the real deal. So, where do you look for it?” Edgar paused, grabbing his cigarettes, fishing one from the pack and lighting it.

“Miles, please—”

“Where?” Miles asked.

“Organized crime, of course” Edgar chuckled. “Al here left us for the LAPD a year and a half later, but….” He grinned, looking from Miles to Alex, “looks like you quit, kid. Good thing you left, you weren’t born for police work.” He looked at Miles again. “Quick, agile…not afraid to take care of the dirty work.”

“Yeah,” Miles nodded. “A gem, isn’t he?” He faked a laugh when Edgar burst into a fit of laughter, but…

This whole situation was bad news, and Miles felt the dreadful feeling pool in his gut the longer the grey-suited man talked, and the longer Alex pulled on his arm, begging him to leave with him. Subconsciously, it caused Miles to take a step back, putting distance between himself and the other men.

He looked at Alex. Was who his colleague really was? A _dirty cop_? Miles resisted the urge to vomit when his mind continued to go over the possibilities. A young, naïve Alex, fresh off the academy, taking care of ‘dirty work’ for organized crime, not thinking of the consequences. A young, bored Alex, fresh off the academy, relishing in the thrill of money and power. To top it all, Edgar was obviously another marionette for _Roman_ , which could only lead Miles to one conclusion…

Alex hadn’t come here to solve the murders of these innocent people. He had come here over a personal vendetta against his former employer.

“We have to leave.” This time, it was Miles himself uttering those words. He shook a surprised Edgar’s hand, then turned back to the car.

A defeated Alex followed behind him, placing a hand on Miles’ shoulder. “Please,” he choked out.

“Don’t you dare,” Miles spit back, shrugging Alex off.

Reluctantly, Alex opened the door to the passenger door and stepped in.

The car ride was silent.

\--

Everything between leaving Hysteria and now had gone on auto-pilot for Miles. It was as if opening the door to his apartment suddenly brought him back to the here and now. Emotions came bubbling to the surface, and as anger, hurt and powerlessness cut in, so did Alex’s voice, shrill and loud,

“Miles, would you stop ignoring me and give me a chance to explain this? Please, let me explain.”

 Miles marched towards the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet and a bottle from under the sink, pouring the liquid into the glass. “I want you out by tomorrow,” he replied. He threw the contents of his glass back and slammed it back onto the counter.

“What?” Alex’s arms fell limp by his side. “You don’t mean that.”

Miles scoffed. “You’ve got some nerve… You’re damn right I mean that. You _used_ me, Alex. I don’t know what game you’re playing but I—”

“Let me explain, then!” Alex groaned in frustration.

“—don’t want to know!”

“It’s not what you think it—”

“Hooo, no, no, no,” Miles sputtered, pointing his finger at the other man. “Don’t play the ‘It’s not what it looks like’ card on me.” He took a ragged breath, dragging a hand over his face. “I eh, I reckon most of your stuff is still packed? I bet you can find a flight to LA, they leave like, what? Every hour or something? You’ll be home before you know it.”

Alex shook his head as he threw his hands in the air. “After _everything_ we’ve been through together, you’re going to throw it all away because of what some..nobody from organized crime tells you?” He asked in disbelief. “We have a chance, together!” He paused with wide eyes. “To-To solve this _case_ , I mean. We have a chance to solve this case together.”

“There _is_ no case,” Miles scoffed. “The case is closed, remember?”

“I thought I could trust you—”

“And you can!” Miles yelled.” You can trust me, like I did you. _I_ thought I could trust _you_. I trusted you with _everything_ , I told you about everything. I thought we were _partners_.” To his own horror, he felt himself get tearful at the whole situation, faintly registering the tears that pricked behind his eyes as he walked up to Alex. He was able to continue surprisingly calm, “You chose not to trust me, to not let me in on the whole story. You were dishonest with me from the start… How can I possibly trust anything you tell me now?”

Alex took a step forward. He reached out for Miles’ hand, taking it when Miles showed no intention of shying away. “Miles, if you’d just—”

Miles squeezed Alex’s hand. “Tell me he was lying,” he begged.

Alex smiled wryly. “I… I can’t do that.”

Miles smiled too, Alex’s hand slipping from his, “Then I want you out by tomorrow.”

With that, Miles disappeared in his bedroom, door slamming shut behind him.

\--

_“Tell me he was lying,”_

_“I… I can’t do that.”_

Miles stared at the ceiling, replaying the past few months in his head. Finally, he had found the missing puzzle piece. It might not be the answer to all the killings, but Alex keeping these kind of secrets from him surely played part in his incapability to make sense of it all. Instead of relief, the whole thing had given him a massive stomach ache. He concluded that perhaps he had overreacted at the whole situation. As a cop, he knew there were always two sides to a story, and he owed Alex a chance to tell his. It was just that Miles couldn’t imagine how this situation could be explained. _But_ , for him to be able to understand, he needed Alex’s story… He had been stuck in this circle of thought ever since he had laid his head on the pillow. After a little while he kicked his sheets away with a frustrated groan and got up, silently opening the door and entering the kitchen. His hand reached up to one of the cupboards to grab a glass—

“Can’t sleep?”

Miles let out an embarrassing, startled sound at that and immediately spun on his heels, glancing at Alex, slightly offended.

“Seems like I’m not the only one.”

Alex flashed him a faint smile. “I can’t turn my mind off,” he murmured.

“Me neither,” Miles retorted, sounding more bitter than he planned and wanted.

Alex blew out a breath and tipped his head down. “I’m sorry for that.”

They were silent once more, and Miles turned again, grabbing a glass and turning the knob on the tap to fill it with water.

“I’m just trying to understand,” he settled on when he turned the stream of water off, “and it might take some time to understand, if I ever will.”

Alex slid into the space between Miles and the counter. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that, but please, let me help you by explaining.” He tilted his head, attempting to catch Miles’ gaze, but Miles was deliberately avoiding him. “Miles, please, look at me,” he gently ordered, hand landing on Miles’ shoulder to turn and face him. The look Miles gave him was almost hollow, and Alex bit his lip in response, anxious as to what Miles would say.

“Alright,” Miles said on an exhale, nodding. “Yeah, I can do that.” He shook his arm free, padding out if the kitchen, Alex following hot on his heels. They plopped down on the couch, and Miles put his glass down on the table, the sound echoing through the otherwise empty space. “Well,” he said, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Start talking.”

Alex took a deep breath. “I… Edgar wasn’t wrong. When I had gotten out of the academy, I… I was bored. I had been writing out parking tickets for like, four months, at the precinct I was the butt of the joke… I had just broken up with,” a gulp, “with Jane, and… everyone thought it was just hilarious: a queer, skinny, _rookie,_ with long, curly hair.” Alex let out a dry, insincere chuckle, then tipped his head down, tucking a curl behind his ear. “It-It was terrible, it’s why I usually cut it at this length.”

Miles bit his lip, overcome with a wave of nauseating guilt and the urge to comfort his colleague. Yet, instead of giving in, he forced every muscle in his body to stay put, wanting to wait the rest of the story out.

“One night I had the night shift patrolling with my buddy Rodriguez,” Alex smiled fondly at the name. He brought his head up again to look at Miles, eyes glimmering. “I met Vince at the academy. He didn’t care about my preferences, he was my friend. I trusted him, I looked up to him. He was a bit older than me. Three years, I reckon? Anyway, we were patrolling, street was quiet and empty, had been for an hour or two, and that’s when he brought it up: a job on the side that offered the thrill of _actual_ police work and twice the pay, but it…”

“But it was with an organized crime unit,” Miles filled in.

“Yes,” Alex sighed. He shifted before he continued, “I knew it was insane, Miles, I did, so I said no. I..I said no at first, but I needed the money badly. You see, I was barely making the rent of my shoebox of an apartment, so… Vince and I, we did it.”

“Did what, exactly?” Miles asked, jaw tense.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I want to hear it from you.”

Alex frowned. “Drugs, of course. We were… drug couriers,” he elaborated flatly.

“Drugs?” Miles stared at Alex. “This…this is about _drugs_?”

“What did you—” Alex fell back into the couch, arms folding over his chest. “Oh my god, you didn’t actually think I was some sort of…hitman, did you?”

“He said… he said you cleaned up the dirty work,” Miles replied.

“Dirty work for a _drug distributing unit_ ,” Alex clarified. “They call it dirty work because the big shots aren’t keen to play delivery boy.”

Miles sighed. “I’m sorry, I… I heard you were working under Roman and I jumped to conclusions.”

“To clarify, Roman had never met me before I eh, seduced him for the investigation. In the unit we knew about him but he was like… almost like a ghost, you know? Edgar was our go-to man and as far as we were concerned, he was out boss. Vince and I were lucky he was fond of us, he’d go easier on us then he would on others.” He paused for a second, and Miles cut in,

“Why did you really come here, Alex?”

Alex heaved a sigh, eyeing Miles’ glass of water still on the table. When Miles nodded Alex grabbed it, taking a big gulp and swallowing it down. “One evening Edgar had given Vince and me our biggest assignment yet, but before we left Edgar sent three others, armed men who came to protect the product. Roman’s orders.” Alex’s voice wavered, and before Miles could stop himself he grabbed onto Alex’s trembling hand.

“What happened?”

“We delivered successfully,” Alex began. “As we left the place where the drop-off had taken place, we heard some strange sounds. On instinct. Roman’s men began shooting. Vince and I, we ducked as it rained bullets around us. A… A shot deflected, hitting Vince. A single GSW to the chest, he bled out before we could do anything…”

“Alex—”

“There was nothing there,” Alex interrupted him. “Just some animal making noise. Nothing would have happened if Roman hadn’t sent his guys to come along with us…I wouldn’t have lost one of the only friends I’ve ever had.” Alex quickly brought a hand up to wipe at a tear.

“Come here.” Miles pulled at Alex’s hand, causing the smaller man to fall against his chest with a sob. Fingers curled into the fabric of Miles’ t-shirt, gripping him tightly and pulling him closer. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry for everything,” Miles shushed, stroking Alex’s hair.

Alex pulled away after a bit, sitting up straight. “I quit then. Started dedicating my life to…my actual work, but I couldn’t just step to my captain and tell him everything. It would have cost me my badge and… Roman would have still walk free. There was no evidence. There never is, as you know, so I decided to work myself up, from rookie, to vandalism, to homicide, all the while following Roman’s every move, until he simply vanished. Disappeared,” Alex laughed bitterly. “Part of me hoped that he was dead… but I got word from a buddy of mine that he had been seen in New York. Then this case came along. I didn’t think much of it at first, but when the New York victim came up, I… I had a feeling, so I grabbed my chance, but… it’s gotten out of hand, Miles. It escalated, they got to you, they got to Jane… I need to end this, for good.”

Admittedly, none of this is what Miles had expected. His brain was still processing everything, but his immediate reaction was that he truthfully understood why Alex did what he had done. He didn’t have much more time to think, as Alex was talking again,

“But, you were right. I did indeed lie to you from the start, while you trusted me with… _everything_ , and I’m sorry for that. I get it if you still want me to leave.”

“Are you crazy?” Miles said immediately. “Knowing you, you’re just gonna go chase this on your own, no way in hell,” he continued, shaking his head.

Alex smiled weakly. “Miles, I… I can’t expect you to stick around, especially after everything that I did.”

Miles huffed, “Well, expect me to stick around. I made you a promise, I _still_ plan to stick by it.”

A little tentatively, Alex allowed himself to smile as he nodded. “Good because… I need you around.”

“Under one condition,” Miles said, shooting Alex a serious look.

“Anything.”

“No more secrets,” Miles said simply. “We have to be completely honest with each other from now on, understood?”

Alex stared back at him with wide eyes, agreeing with a small nod of his head. “In that case, I have one more thing,” he said softly.

Before Miles had any chance to think about that statement, Alex cupped Miles’ face and pulled him close, firmly pressing their lips together. A mix of emotions rushed through Miles’ veins at the contact, and he couldn’t help but kiss back, until Alex pulled away again.

“I don’t think our… contact… I don’t think it has been platonic, and I also don’t think that kiss we shared outside of the club was just something for work. Sure, it was a convenient distraction but… I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you,” Alex rambled, cheeks a little rosy at his confession.

Miles’ heart was pounding madly as he looked at a hopeful Alex. “I…I agree,” he said eventually, relief clearly washing over Alex’s face, gaze flickering between Miles’ eyes and his lips, smiling when he says,

“I was really hoping you’d say that.”

They kiss again, and this time it’s Miles who can’t hold back. He hadn’t expected the urge to be so strong, and irresistible, and before he knows it Alex’s hands are in his hair. Opening his mouth under Alex’s, he slipped his tongue inside. It all felt so familiar, despite the fact they’d only done this once before, and the feeling only made Miles pull Alex’s body closer to his. Alex groaned as Miles’ tongue touched his own, and he shot forward, climbing into Miles’ lap. Miles shifted, pressing back against a pillow.

“You’re a damn good kisser, Miles,” Alex murmured against Miles’ lips with a roll of his hips.

Miles’ hands find Alex’s hips, chuckling at Alex’s eagerness, but not stopping him. “We should’ve made this honesty rule a lot sooner,” he points out, stealing a quick kiss.

Alex blushed even deeper, but hummed in agreement, winding his arms around Miles’ neck.

Miles pulled away. “Alex, have I ever- and remember, be honest, have I ever shown you my bedroom?” He asked with a grin.

Alex threw his head back with a laugh, shaking his head. “I believe not, no.”

“Would you like to see it?”

“God, yes.”

\--

“You’re gorgeous,” Miles murmured, eyes wandering up and down Alex’s naked form hovering over him.

Their clothes had been discarded, flying across the room between lazy kisses and words of affection while hands and lips roamed over every piece of newly exposed skin.

Alex smiled above him, then turned his head to tenderly press his lips against the circular scar on Miles’ left arm. He sucked softly, before releasing the skin from between his lips. “You should see yourself.” He moved up towards Miles’ shoulder, eventually burying his nose in Miles’ neck. “Beautiful.”

“I want you so bad,” Miles sighed as Alex’s lips danced over his skin. He shivering when the man rested his head on his shoulder, hair tickling Miles’ naked skin, still feeling slightly baffled at the turn of events over the course of the night.

Alex smiled against Miles’ skin, pressing one last kiss to Miles’ shoulder before he lifted his head. Miles cradled Alex’s face, kissing him softly, with care, doubting he’ll never get tired of the almost save feeling that came with the press of lips. Alex pulled away with a smack, tongue swiping over his own bottom lip before biting it, face scrunching up in the cutest way. He frowned, lost in thought, and Miles cocked his head expectantly. Alex shook his head to himself and starred dazedly at Miles.

“I love you,” he admits, blushing furiously.

Miles groaned at that, then rolled them over, pulling Alex under him and peppering his face in kisses, muttering the words back at him as he reached down between them, lining himself up and increasing pressure. And as Alex gasped, he laced their fingers together, pushing their hands up to lie above Alex’s head, before he pressed their lips together and arched his hips.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles and Alex revel in the aftermath of their honesty before meeting up with the team for some drinks in Shutterbugs. Jamie and Alexa discover a shocking previously overlooked piece of evidence that turns the closed case upside down. The killer is finally revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been excited to post this chapter since I began outlining this story. 
> 
> Sorry it's a bit late. Enjoy!

Bliss.

Miles allowed himself to cringe shortly as that was the first word that came to mind when he woke up this morning, nose pressed into the soft curls of Alex’s hair, breathing in his scent as he pressed closer to him, before shrugging it off with a grin, attempting to catch sleep again.

Of course, as sleepy as he was, his mind wouldn’t allow it.

From the moment Alex had stepped foot in the precinct, he knew something was up with the detective, but he hadn’t quite envisioned this would ever happen and that it wasn’t one of his many dreams about the matter. He smiled fondly as he remembered Matt calling this all along.

Suddenly, his mood fell, thinking of what exactly _this_ was. Sure, they’d admitted a mutual attraction, and they’d slept together, and somewhere in the back of his mind he faintly remembered “I love you’s” being exchanged. Was Alex even after something serious? Or was it a heat of the moment thing? Not to mention the man lived on the other side of the country, bound to go back once they’d solved this mystery case together. Would that be the last thing they’d do together?

His gut twisted at that, realizing he was in too deep, unsure if there was a way back and if he was even ready to face any sort of rejection. He barely opened up to anyone and the thought of finally doing so but getting hurt made Miles stir involuntarily. He gritted his teeth when he realizing it roused Alex from his sleep.

The last thing he wanted to do was deal with those thoughts right now…

Alex wiggled out of Miles’ grip, allowing him to turn and face Miles. “Morning,” he rasped, rapidly blinking his eyes against the bright sunlight pouring into the bedroom.

“Morning,” Miles replied, voice tight, lips barely moving.

Alex frowned at Miles’ demeanour. “‘s everything alright?” He was slurring with sleep as he reached for Miles.

Immediately, Miles moved away with a sigh. “Fine.” He cursed himself for behaving like this, but truthfully, it was the only way he knew how to deal with this. Distancing himself while he still could seemed like the right thing to do.

Alex propped himself up on his elbows at that answer, sighing as well. “If I remember correctly we sort of established an all honesty rule last night. Your suggestion, too, so don’t go breaking your own rule now, eh?”

“It’s nothing, really. D’you want tea? I’m gonna put the kettle on.” Miles shifted to step out of bed when Alex’s hand closed around his wrist.

“Stop lying to me,” Alex snapped, voice loud as he yanked Miles back between the sheets. His eyes roamed Miles’ face trying to catch his gaze, but Miles was deliberately avoiding eye-contact. “Fine, I’ll start then, if you wanna be stubborn. Sorry, if I did something wrong, or something. I think last night was…pretty amazing, but—”

“you don’t want to pursue anything?” Miles filled in.

“Miles, please, shut up and let me finish,” Alex retorted. “I do—I... It was amazing, but if you’re not up for continuing this then… I don’t want to like… push you, or anything.”

“You’re not,” Miles immediately replied. “You’re not… I eh, I was afraid that this were gonna be a one-time thing, but—”

“It’s not,” Alex grinned. “If it’s up to me, it’s not.”

Miles smiled shyly. “Good. If it’s up to me it’s not either.”

“Glad we agree. Now that we’ve settled that,” Alex said, scooting over to Miles and leaning in, “can I finally give you a kiss?”

Miles grinned, nodded and didn’t waste a moment, cupping Alex’s face and pulling him along as he let himself fall back into the pillows. Alex rolled himself on top of the other, chests pressed flush together.

“What happens when you have to go back to LA?” Miles dared to ask when he pulled away.

Alex struggled to push himself up, “What?”

“With us, I mean,” Miles clarified. “Los Angeles is far away, Al. I’m not sure if I can do that…”

Alex let himself fall back onto Miles’ chest, forearms rested over Miles’ pectorals, chin resting on top of his arms. His finger began mindlessly drawing invisible patterns on Miles’ chest as he answered, “I actually… I’m thinking of staying. I’ve got nothing in LA anyway, besides me job; I haven’t got a large social network…” He said with a frown.

A little stunned, Miles lay there and listened as Alex talked, then tucked his chin to his chest to look at Alex. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it made sense. Alex didn’t have a wonderful track record in LA, but Miles wasn’t so sure the memories that would haunt him here, in New York, would be good ones.

“You’re serious?” He asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea, I _really_ do, but… I don’t want you to make hasty decisions.”

Alex thinks at that. “Some connections are too strong to let go of, don’t you think?” He offered as an answer.

A warm sensation bubbled through Miles’ veins at that admission, and he flipped them over, pressing a crushing kiss to the older man’s lips. “I’ll let you think about it for a while, okay? No pressure. But god, you… you always know just what to fucking say, don’t you?” He asked, broad smile splitting his face.

“I’ve been told I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic,” Alex replied coyly, shrugging as well as he could.

Miles grinned, looking down at his hand which was already sliding down from Alex’s face, down his chest—

The shrill sound of Miles’ ringtone interrupted their moment, and Miles immediately leaned up over Alex towards the nightstand. He quickly glanced at the clock there, noting it was far past noon, before taking his phone that was vibrating and pinging against the wood.

 _‘Matt Helders calling’_ flashed across the screen.

“Matt?” Miles mumbled as an answer to Alex’s look of question.

Alex hummed his disapproval. “Ignore it,” he groaned, leaning up to press kisses up one of Miles’ arms. “Please,” he whined.

Miles flashed him an apologetic look, “Sorry love, gotta take this,” he said as he pulled away. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed as he slid the green symbol on screen to the side and brought the device to his ear. “‘lo?”

“Hey, it’s Matt.”

“What’s up Matt?” Miles asked, voice wavering a bit as he felt Alex sit up behind him, pressing up against his back. “I’m kind of eh, in the middle of something,” Miles decided on as Alex began to press kisses on his back.

“I’m aware you’re on leave, sorry to bother you,” Matt apologized. “I just thought eh…most of us from six are going out for drinks in Shutterbugs tonight, maybe a dance. Got confirmation on Jamie and Nick; Lex might be there. We’ll be there round nine and... thought you might like to come over. If you’re not busy, of course,” he quickly added.

“Hmm, I think he’ll be busy,” Alex murmured into Miles’ other ear, only for him to hear.

“Tonight?” Miles asked. He reached back, hand sliding into Alex’s hair, fisting the curls and pushing him back to task, lips landing against Miles’ neck with a muffled, offended gasp. “Yes, sounds great, I’ll make sure I’m done,” he said to Matt.

“Great, can’t wait,” Matt said cheerfully. “One more thing and then I’ll let you go: Do you know if Alex is still in town?”

Miles laughed, but quickly disguised it as if he was clearing his throat. “Think so,” he choked out. “You thinking of inviting him?”

“Yes, actually. Do you think he’ll come?”

“Oh, he’ll _definitely_ come,” Miles said, turning his head and raising an eyebrow.

“Multiple times and you have a deal,” Alex whispered, a sly smile gracing his lips.

“He just said he’ll be there,” Miles said to Matt, giggling at Alex’s wide eyes as he realized what Miles had just said.

“What do you mean ‘He just said’— Oh my god, Miles Kane, is he with you? Is that why you’re busy? I fucking—”

“Matt, I really gotta go. We’re looking forward to seeing you tonight!” Miles quickly spoke into the phone, ending the call before Matt could protest. He put his phone on airplane mode and tossed it away, before turning and pinning Alex to the mattress with a grin. “Where were we?”

\--

“I called it!” Matt yelled, elbowing Jamie and Alexa who are seated on either side of him. He was grinning like a mad man as he watched Miles and Alex enter, fingers entwined. “Did I call it or what?”

Miles laughed at that, shaking his head as he wiggled from Alex’ grasp to take their coats.

In turn, Alex shot him a questioning look at Matt’s remarks. “Wanna fill me in?”

“He never told you that, did he?” Matt asked. “Oh, come, sit. You see, I called it from the moment you stepped out of that elevator. Actually, that’s not true, maybe…”

Matt’s voice faded out as Miles walked away, overridden by the steady chatter of other visitors. Laughing to himself, he walked towards the wardrobe and put his and Alex’s coat away. As he meant to hand Alex’s coat, it fell from the rack and pooled by Miles’ feet. He sighed, and bent down to pick it up, patting it down for dirt and dust. His eye fell on the ring lying where Alex’s coat had previously fallen. Quickly, he picked it up, hung Alex’s coat and twisted the ring in his grip. It was a silver, signet ring, meant for a pinky, judging by the size of it. ‘Death Ramps’, it read across the front of it. Miles snickered, pocketing it so he could give it to Alex once he got back.

“—I think his exact words were: ‘He’s not _that_ good looking. Besides, I’m not gonna make assumptions about detective Turner’s likings’” Matt’s laugh roared through the small café, getting lowder the closer Miles got to their table.

Alex twisted in his sweat and shot Miles a faux-offended look, palm placed over his chest. “Not _that_ good looking, hmm?” He asked, smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“I’m sorry! I were being professional!” Miles offered as an explanation as he sat down.

“Call it what you want, detective Kane, I call it lying,” Alex said, shaking his head before taking a sip of one the beers Matt had ordered for Miles and him.

“So,” Jamie’s voice piped up as he set his glas down, “are you two like… proper together now, or..?” He wiggled her eyebrows.

The two detectives looked at each other.

“Yeah,” Miles said, searching Alex’s face but finding no sign of protest. “Yeah, we are.”

Alex nodded in confirmation, then dropped his gaze to Miles lips, pressing a quick kiss to the bottom one.

Sounds of protest and encouragement filled the air, but nothing quite matched the gasp they heard from behind them. Turning their heads, they found Nick standing behind them, mouth agape.

“There goes thinking being a few minutes late wouldn’t be a problem,” he said, amusement apparent in his voice. “I’ve obviously missed something major.”

“Turner and Kane finally stopped dancing around each other and gave in,” Alexa laughed. She tipped her glass back and threw the last few sips of beer back before standing up. “I‘m getting another round,” she announced, gathering the empty glasses. Miles shifted so Alexa could take the empty glasses to the bar, and as he did so he became aware of the ring in his pocket. Immediately he reached for it, tapping Alex’s shoulder to get his attention as he offered him the ring.

“I found this—”

“Wow, Miles, mate, bit soon, isn’t it?” Matt laughed nervously.

“Matt, please,” Miles sighed. “It fell from Alex’s coat, alright? I was just offering it back to him.”

The man in question snatched if from Miles’ grip. “Thank you,” he murmured. He attempted to put the ring in the pocket of his trousers, but Jamie plucked it from his grip before he could do so.

“Beer!”

At the same time, Alexa walked up, standing between Alex and Jamie as she set the filled glasses down on their table. “Sorry,” she said, looking down at Alex and then at Jamie, before she moved back.

Meanwhile, Jamie studied the ring. “Pretty thing” he said, offering it back to Alex. “Pinky?” He asked, lifting his own finger for emphasis.

Alex nodded and pocketed the ring. “It’s custom made. My grandfather gave it to me as a prezzie,” he explained. He frowned then, and tipped his head down with a wry smile. “I avoid wearing it all the time, afraid I’ll lose it, but I do like the idea of having it with me.” He turned to Miles. “Thanks for saving it, love.”

“Of course,” Miles smiled. He then turned his head, staring at the dancefloor, filtering away the steady chatter surrounding him.

\--

“Are you listening, love?” Was suddenly loud and clear.

Miles eyes flashed away from the dancefloor, and he cast his eyes forward towards Alex, now seated across from him.

_How long had he been staring into space?_

“What?”

Alex giggled, giddy on alcohol. “I said: ‘Are you listening?’” He asked, flashing Miles a dazzling smile.

Miles was suddenly hyper aware of how the man was holding his hand over the table and caressed the back with his thumb slowly. “No,” he answered honestly.

It resulted in another laugh from Alex, and Miles couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“We should dance!” Alex said getting up from his chair. “You don’t know what you’re up against,” he said seriously. Miles held his breath, suddenly hit with a pang of déjà vu. He couldn’t quite place it, his mind to hazy with the alcohol. His thoughts were interrupted by Alex’s voice. “I’m an extraordinary dancer, remember? Hysteria?” He asked, sticking his tongue out.

Miles laughed, relief filling him, and he got up, allowing Alex to lead him towards the dancefloor, hypnotized by how the man’s hips were already swaying with the music. Alexa followed them shortly, dragging the other three men with her. They allowed Alexa to push and pull them until they were dancing in a circle, which worked for a few songs, until Alex seemed to have enough of it, slinging his arms around Miles neck, and pulling him close, foreheads pressed together.

“Stay in New York,” Miles slurred. “Like having you right here with me.”

Alex nodded frantically and admittedly, Miles hadn’t felt this free in ages.

\--

“I have so many regrets,” Miles groaned at the pounding behind his eyes, before turning around in bed and reaching for Alex. Surprisingly, he found the other side of the bed empty and cold. He opened his eyes, frowning and eyeing the door that stood slightly ajar.

He quickly pulled his discarded boxers on and padded towards the door, into his living room. He found Alex curled up on the couch, stack of paper in his lap, eyes on the murder board.

“What are you doing?” Miles croaked, rubbing his eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong, I really liked our day off,” Alex murmured. “but we’ve murders to solve, yes?” He looked up at Miles. “There’s warm water in the kettle and I’ve put two aspirins on the counter for you.”

Murmuring a quick, “Thanks,” Miles made his way into the kitchen. He located the aspirins next to an empty glass. Quickly he filled it with water from the tab before throwing the aspirins back and emptying the glass with large gulps. “Discover anything new?” He asked, voice raised so Alex could hear him.

“Maybe,” was the reply.

Miles peaked his head around the kitchen door. “What is it?” He asked.

“I think we need to go back to the warehouses.” Alex frowned at his own blocked writing, then tipped his head up to meet Miles’ questioning stare. “D’you think we can leave within now and half an hour?”

\--

“Eh, Lex!,” Jamie knocked on the glass door to Alexa’s office, opening it without waiting for a reply.

Alexa looked up from her laptop, puzzled as to why Jamie came to visit her. Things had been quiet on six lately, and Alexa was thankful she could get some paperwork out of the way. “Hey…” She hesitantly replied. “What can I do for you, Jamie?”

“Captain Jung just sent this disk over.” Jamie waved the piece of plastic around, before handing it to Alexa. “‘s a disk from evidence. Apparently Turner forgot it in LA.”

Alexa frowned. “Really? After all this time?”

Jamie shrugged. “Apparently it had fallen under his desk. At least, that’s where one of Jung’s detectives found it,” he explained. “Homme thought it wasn’t worth a look, but I thought it couldn’t hurt, ‘s not busy here anyway.” He held the disk out. “Can you play it for me? Do you have time?”

“I do, sure,” the brunette replied as she took the disk from Jamie. She opened the disk drive, placed the disk in there and soon, a dark image of an alley projected onto the large white wall in front of them.

Jamie scoffed. “LA…” he murmured. “Fast forward a little, please?”

Alexa held the button the keyboard, until a blonde woman appeared, shortly followed by a dark figure. Instantly, Alexa pressed ‘play’, allowing them to watch the killer and his victim at normal speed again.

It was the usual, really.

They chat, she faces them, he shows his back to the camera, and the mood shifts instantly when the man lunges forward and wraps his hands around the woman’s neck.

Jamie nearly opted to stop the video and pull the disk out, until something caught his eye.

_No gloves._

“Alexa, pause!”

Alexa nearly smashed the spacebar through the keyboard as she did as she was told. Jamie’s heart was beating a thousand miles an hour as he approached the screen, his mouth falling open.

_Surely this couldn’t be true._

“Zoom.”

“On what?”

“On his hands and her neck,” Jamie snarled, irrationally impatient.

The image enhanced, a little blurry and pixelated, but already smoothing over. There was no doubt about it now, and Jamie made a strange sound in pure horror at this turn of events.

_“It’s custom made. My grandfather gave it to me as a prezzie.”_

“Jamie, what’s the ma—“

“Where’s Miles?” Jamie choked out, gripping Alexa’s shoulder, both to convey his seriousness and to keep himself from falling over.

“I suppose he’s with Alex, they went back to Miles’ yesterday—”

Jamie didn’t hear the rest. He scrambled for his phone, dialling Miles’ number from memory.

“C’mon…. Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

“Hello, this is Miles.”

“Thank god, Mi, listen—”

_“I’m not around, so leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”_

“Fucking hell, Miles!” Jamie cursed. He shoved his phone in his pocket and patted himself down to find his holster, with gun, still carefully strapped around him and his car keys in his pocket. Then he stared at Alexa, who looked completely clueless. “Lex. Save that tape. Save that image. He ‘forgot’ that tape because it’s him. He’s the killer.” He turned away, then turned back. “Tell Homme. I don’t have the time, I’m going to find them.”

“Are you sure?” Alexa asked, voice trembling.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to the woman’s forehead. “Save the evidence and tell Homme,” he reminded her. “Let him call me if needed!”

She nodded, bottom lip tugged between her teeth. “Be careful.”

“Always am.”

And with that, Jamie stormed off towards the elevators.

\--

“Can’t we just take your car, Miles?” Alex asked, desperately trying to hail a cab for them. “Doesn’t seem like these cabs are stopping for us anytime soon.”

“I’ve got a missed call from Jamie,” Miles announced with a frown, ignoring Alex’s question. “Should call him back, he also needs to know about this lead, don’t you think? If really you feel like we’re onto someth—”

“No,” Alex interjected, snatching Miles’ phone from his hands. “If you tell Jamie, he’ll _certainly_ tell Homme. They’ll be all over us and then we’ll never finish this investigation.”

Miles frowned again. Something in Alex’s voice changed, and Miles couldn’t put his finger on it. This lead he’d found must truly be something special; he almost seemed nervous. “C’mon, Al, don’t be paranoid.” Miles reached for his phone, but Alex kept it out of his grasp. “Love, Jamie’s on our side, we can trust him,” he reasoned, letting his hands fall to his side.

“No, Mi, I don’t want it. No cops.”

Alex pocketed Miles’ phone, then raised his hand at the cab approaching them. The yellow car gradually pulled up by the side of the road and Alex sighed as he opened the backdoor, placed his hand on Miles’ back and gently attempted to push him inside.

Miles turned, facing Alex. “This doesn’t feel good,” he admitted. “If you could just at least tell me about this lead, I’ll feel better knowing what we’re going into. We both know it’s gonna be dangerous. I got shot there, remember?” He bit his lip, voice wavering a bit as he thought back to that moment. “I’m afraid.”

Alex tilted his head, then leaning in to press his lips to Miles’, short and sure. When he pulled back, he rested his head on the yellow door. “‘m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m being insensitive. We’ll call Jamie on the way there, alright? Would that make you feel better?”

“It would.” Miles smiled, then kissed Alex back. “Thank you.” He turned and climbed into the backseat of the car, scooting over so Alex could sit next to him, when he suddenly heard the man in question scream from behind him. Miles turned his head to see what was going on, “Al?”

Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever wonder why Alex's verse in Used To Be My Girl is my favourite? This is the reason.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking up and finding himself bound to a chair, Miles learns of Alex’s secrets. Meanwhile, Jamie races against the clock to find his colleague. Will he be in time to save him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but to soothe the sting, I'm uploading the epilogue right after this one. I hope you like this, thanks for sticking with me!
> 
> Alex's grande-finale.  
> (Mine, also.)

_“I’ve got a missed call from Jamie,” Miles announced with a frown, ignoring Alex’s question. “Should call him back, he also needs to know about this lead, don’t you think? If really you feel like we’re onto someth—”_

_“No,” Alex interjected, snatching Miles’ phone from his hands. “If you tell Jamie, he’ll certainly tell Homme. They’ll be all over us and then we’ll never finish this investigation.”_

_Miles frowned again. Something in Alex’s voice changed, and Miles couldn’t put his finger on it. This lead he’d found must truly be something special; he almost seemed nervous. “C’mon, Al, don’t be paranoid.” Miles reached for his phone, but Alex kept it out of his grasp. “Love, Jamie’s on our side, we can trust him,” he reasoned, letting his hands fall to his side._

_“No, Mi, I don’t want it. No cops.”_

_Alex pocketed Miles’ phone, then raised his hand at the cab approaching them. The yellow car gradually pulled up by the side of the road and Alex sighed as he opened the backdoor, placed his hand on Miles’ back and gently attempted to push him inside._

_Miles turned, facing Alex. “This doesn’t feel good,” he admitted. “If you could just at least tell me about this lead, I’ll feel better knowing what we’re going into. We both know it’s gonna be dangerous. I got shot there, remember?” He bit his lip, voice wavering a bit as he thought back to that moment. “I’m afraid.”_

_Alex tilted his head, then leaning in to press his lips to Miles’, short and sure. When he pulled back, he rested his head on the yellow door. “‘m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m being insensitive. We’ll call Jamie on the way there, alright? Would that make you feel better?”_

_“It would.” Miles smiled, then kissed Alex back. “Thank you.” He turned and climbed into the backseat of the car, scooting over so Alex could sit next to him, when he suddenly heard the man in question scream from behind him. Miles turned his head to see what was going on, “Al?”_

_Then everything went black._

\--

The sound of his own ragged breathing in his ears is the thing that wakes him. It’s still dark, when Miles’ eyes shoot open, and immediately a sense of panic flushed through his every limb and the spaces between. It caused him to attempt to lurch forward, only to realize he was pinned in place, his head bouncing back against something with a loud _bang!_

He was blindfolded, he noticed as his head lolled from one side to the other, propped up to sit straight on something he now assumed to be a chair as he regained some feeling in his extremities. His arms were curled around the chair, bound at the wrists, his ankles strapped to the chair’s legs. He was desperately trying to move them, but was only able to clench his fists. He winched as the material around his wrists cut sharply into his flesh, leading him to conclude it wasn’t a simple rope he was bound with, but most likely some sort of cable tie.

Immediately, the sharp pain in his head had him on high alert, suddenly remembering how he came to be in the position he was in.

The taxi…

Alex and himself had been on their way to check a lead Alex had found when it suddenly got dark as he entered the taxi. He distinctly remembered Alex yelling right before he stepped in behind him. Had the taxi driver been the one who’d thrown the punches? Maybe one of Roman’s men had been shadowing them, following them around until the perfect moment arose—

“Miles? Are you awake?”

“Alex!” Miles gasped when the familiar voice filled his ears from behind him. “Yes! I am.”

The steady thuds of Alex’s boots tapping the floor made his heart beat faster, thrilled that the man had found a way to free himself. In a sudden, smooth motion, the blindfold was yanked from Miles’ head. The sharp light made the man blink rapidly a few times, before he could make out Alex’s silhouette against it. Those familiar brown eyes were staring down at him, and a small smirk graced his lips as he took Miles in. It made Miles smile in response, his fingers involuntarily flexing as he tried to reach for the other man, but he immediately came back to the fact he was still bound.

“You got free,” Miles smiled. “It was the taxi driver, wasn’t it? I think he’s some sort of accomplice of Roman’s, he must be. Did you take the bastard out? We need to call Jamie right away, Roman won’t get away with this.” He wiggled his shoulders as best as he could as he turned his head, attempting to look behind him. “Help me out, would you?” Miles asked, looking back and shooting Alex a pointed look.

Alex looked down at him, stunned look on his face, and then laughed, throwing his head back. Miles eyed him in confusion, fighting against his restraints once more. Alex eyed him again, smirk still present as he pressed his tongue into his cheek.

“God,” Alex spoke, shaking his head. “You really are a fool, aren’t you?”

Miles quit his squirming and narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“I mean, from all the information I’d gathered about you I’d already deducted that, but it’s even more amusing to see it in person.”

Feeling frozen in time, Miles just stared at the other man in confusion, his mind racing.

_What was Alex talking about? Why did he have that look in his eyes? That strange smirk on his face? And more importantly, why wasn’t Alex helping him?_

Alex crouched down, bringing his gaze levelled with Miles’. “Let me help you out, _partner._ ” He said. “There is no accomplice of Roman’s. It also wasn’t the taxi driver,” Alex nudged his head to the right. Upon turning his head, Miles spotted their driver. He was turned on his side, his back to Miles. There was an obvious wound on the back of his head, and he lay there motionless. “He won’t be a bother. So rude of him to not pick us up sooner, agreed? Would’ve given me some more time.” Alex’s voice echoed through the spacious room as he stood up again. “No, Miles, the two people most important to this investigation are alive and well, right here in the room; there’s just _you_ and _me_.”

“It was you?” Miles felt like the words left him before he had even _thought_ them. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a conclusion. Honestly, Miles didn’t recognize his own tone or voice, but a great sense of dread crept up on him, making him feel heavier than before.

For a while, Alex merely smiled,

“Excellent work, detective.”

\--

Tires squeaking and mind racing, Jamie raced out of the police department’s parking lot. He immediately steered his car left. He had no plan whatsoever, not having a status on Miles at all. The fact that Miles wasn’t answering his phone didn’t sit right with Jamie and he decided that checking up on Miles in his apartment seemed like a good idea.

The image of their killer wearing that ring was behind his eyelids every time he blinked. Pretty soon, Jamie began replaying the past months in his mind, trying to detect any suspicious behaviour. He realized that Alex had taken over their investigation more that he realized. He literally worked himself into their department. His likeability and bashfulness had Alexa wrapped around his finger, Homme was at his beck and call, and to his shame, Jamie realized he too had eventually let his guard down, allowing Alex back into their investigation when it was convenient for him. Alex had also opted most of the theories and leads throughout the investigation, tying the Los Angeles murders to the ones in New York. Everyone chalked it up to being an insightful, bright young detective, when really, he was probably leaving the evidence for himself, to back his own story. Because what did they even really know about the LAPD detective? The man kept to himself mostly, giving him plenty of space and time to plan and do as he pleased…

Still, he had a special interest in Miles.

Jamie wasn’t blind, he noticed the interest. From the moment he had stepped out of the elevator, into six, he had gone for Miles. According to Miles he knew all about Miles’ cases and kept pressing on about the Murphy case. At first, Jamie thought Alex was just a rookie homicide detective with a little crush on his hero, but now…god, he’d had it all wrong.

Sooner than he thought, driving faster than he thought, the intersection ahead came up at a roaring speed. The traffic light burned a bright red ahead of him, but despite that, hitting the breaks was the last thing on Jamie’s mind. He quietly cursed himself for not bringing his police lights, as he quickly checked each direction, carefully calculating his chances, before stepping down on the gas pedal and racing past the white line on the road he was supposed to stop behind. From the corner of his right eye, he caught a truck coming his way. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jamie, but the driver, it seemed, was also in a hurry, driving faster that allowed. Abruptly, he turned the steering wheel to the left, manoeuvring himself between two cars in the left lane, tires squeaking as the truck next to him honked loudly, nose nudging him right into place.

Wide eyed, Jamie blew out a breath, steadily rolling on sandwiched in-between the two other cars as he was. He quickly glanced at himself in the rear-view mirror, finding his cheeks bright red, more than usual, and he couldn’t help the soft, “Fuck,” escaping him. Glancing around him, he realized he’d ended up in the wrong lane. It was going to take him longer to get to Miles than he wanted to.

On autopilot, he pulled his phone from his pocket, dialling Alexa’s number. The phone had barely gone over once when Alexa’s voice blared through the phone,

“Jamie! Please, tell me—

“Haven’t found him,” Jamie interjected. “I… I didn’t pay attention. Been thinking so much I ended up in the wrong lane. It’s going to take a while before I get there.”

“I see,” Alexa sighed. “I uhm…I’ve bad news also.”

“What do you mean?” Jamie asked with a frown.

“Homme’s in a meeting. With the mayor. He’s not answering his phone.”

“That’s fucking shit timing,” Jamie deadpanned, attempting to steer his car back to the other lane, but the other traffic wasn’t letting him through. “What about Helders?”

“Out canvassing somewhere in Brooklyn.” The sound of Alexa’s chair rolling filled the line. “Phone’s still on his desk.” A pause. “I’m sorry,” Alexa murmured. “I mean, I could go, but—”

“No, no, Lex, that’s alright,” Jamie assured. “You stay there, I want you safe and…you’re my back up, if it anything goes wrong,” he admitted.

After, he pushed his phone between his ear and shoulder so he could use both hands to turn his steering wheel. He’d noticed a spot coming up between some inpatient business man and a careful old lady, and this was his shot. Accompanied by honking horns and screeching tires, Jamie manoeuvred himself into the right lane.

“Jamie, everything alright?” Alexa asked softly.

“Yes, all’s well. Looks like traffic might clear up,” Jamie replied, not able to fight the smug smile that appeared on his face. “I’ll be there in a few, call you when I know more.”

And with that, he thumbed the red, ‘end call’ button on his screen, stepping down on the gas pedal once the lights above him burned a bright green.

\--

_“It was you?”_

As his head fell back against the chair, the question echoed through Miles’ brain. Dark spots were beginning to form in his vision.

_Close your eyes. Breath in._

_“Excellent work, detective.”_

_It was him?_

_Breath out. Don’t faint right now._

“I… I don’t…You couldn’t…” Miles stuttered, voice weak. He swallowed thickly before taking another deep breath and blinking his vision back into focus. “Did he put you up to this? Roman?” The question bubbled up suddenly. It seemed like it was the only explanation his mind could come up with. “Is it blackmail or something?”

“Aw, Miles! After all this,” Alex gestured around the room, “you still believe in my innocence, how sweet,” he chuckled, “and wrong.”

“I don’t understand,” Miles said, shaking his head. “Roman—”

“This isn’t about Roman, Miles!” Alex yelled. “Not yet anyway. He’s mine, even though he doesn’t know it... He won’t know what’s coming.”

Miles stared at Alex in disbelief. He found Alex staring back at him, head cocked. Something was wrong in that gaze. Different. Miles had seen it when they’d hauled the taxi and he was seeing it now, and finally he understood what had changed.

“You son of a bitch,” Miles growled.

Alex grinned. “It’s finally settling in, huh?”

“If not for blackmail, or your old academy buddy, why are you doing this?”

“Because I like it. The police made me like this,” Alex explained.

“What do you mean ‘the police made me like this’?”

“I had a boring career, Kane. I mean, the parking tickets truly were the worst, I don’t need to tell you that that wasn’t a lie. L.A. was suffering from a sudden wave of vandalism reports, so they put together a special task force, and I got in. The taskforce only lasted for a while. That plague ended and they needed to make cuts. The person with the highest rate of closed cases got to stay, and  I wasn’t gonna get bumped back down to parking tickets, so what can you do? You can work really hard and hope for the best, or you can take matters into your own hands. And so I did. I found crimes that were easy to solve.” Alex shot Miles a questioning look. “And what makes a crime easy to solve?”

When Miles didn’t give him any more that a filthy look, Alex raised his voice, “What makes a crime easy to solve, detective Kane?”

“I. don’t. know,” Miles bit back.

“Sure you do! You’re a good detective, c’mon! What makes a crime easy to solve? What’s essential?”

“Evidence,” Miles offered.

Alex snapped his fingers. “Ding-ding-ding. Evidence. And what evidence is easier to find than evidence you’ve planted yourself, right?”

"You started committing crimes," Miles concluded with a huff.

Alex nodded, "Exactly, detective, exactly. Good work. So, I started committing crimes. I made it into a little puzzle, actually. Found my perfect guinea pig, made sure all the evidence points to them,” he explained. “'Turner, he has an eye for detail. Sees the evidence and puts it together.’,” he said, putting on a convincing American accent. “And pretty sure I was permanently promoted to vandalism. ‘s a pretty easy job, if you’re planting the evidence yourself, so soon after that, the question arose. ‘How do you think Turner would do in homicide?'," he said in the same American accent.

“Logically, that means you had to start killing people,” Miles said, voice dripping with irony.

Meanwhile, his mind was racing, attempting to comprehend the situation. Quickly he tried to sketch out the profile of the psychopath he appeared to be dealing with, but found himself in need of more, of details. The only way he was going to get that was by keeping Alex talking. Hopefully, that would also buy him some time to come up with a plan.

Alex tutted. “Not at first, mind you. To tell you the truth, Miles,” he grabbed the chair next to Miles and set it down in front of him, sitting down, “I wasn’t sure if I could do it. So, I didn’t start right away but I eh… I observed. Watched how things went down in homicide. Figured out their pattern. And murder, Miles, murder is fascinating, yeah? Suspects are fascinating, it’s…psychology at its finest, innit?"

“I'm guessing your newfound interest got a little out of hand?” Miles scoffed as he subtly began to wriggle his hands, trying to change their position so he could slide them from the cable tie.

Alex laughed. “I guess so. It wasn't even as hard as I anticipated. That first time you see the life leave someone's body, the life _you_ took...” he paused, dragging his hand over his face. His eyes were wide and spacy, excited, as he continued. “It's a rush like no other, Miles. It's a high better than any drug—”

He was cut off when Miles yelped. His wrists twisted around each other behind his back, putting one of his shoulders at a painful angle. “Fuck!” He hissed.

“Don't worry, Miles. You’re strapped in nice and tight, I made sure of that," Alex said with a wink. He placed his hands on his thighs as he stood up, the chair scraping over the floor.

Catching his breath and twisting back into his previous position with a hiss, Miles knew Alex was right. He was barely able to move at all, and simply twisting around in his restraints wouldn’t help him along. He searched the room with his eyes, but without knowing what was at his back, he had no way of coming up with an escape plan. “So, you were a god in L.A,” he spat. “Why come here, then?”

"Well, I came here for you, of course," Alex said matter of factly.

 Miles quit his wiggling. “M-Me?” He squeaked. “W-Why me?”

Alex lifted his chair, spun it around, and sat down, knees on either side of the wooden back. He placed his hands on the top rail, resting his chin down against them and cocked his head. “Because you’re so interesting, Miles,” Alex answered.

Miles scoffed and shook his head as he turned away. “Am not,” he snarled.

Alex nodded. "The famous Miles Kane," he sighed. "That's where this started. Wanna know what caught my attention?” Alex asked. The tone he had use throughout this encounter was sweet, and it made Miles’ stomach twist at the stark contrast of his voice and the situation he had put them in. The insincerity of it all…

“No.”

“It was the Murphy case,” Alex offered at the same time.

Miles’ breath caught in his throat to the point it made him cough, choke, almost. Feeling like he got punched in the gut, he stared at Alex, helpless. “Please,” he murmured. Biting his lip, he mentally cursed himself for starting to beg so early on. With the way Alex was grinning at him, his pupils blown so wide it made his eyes look black rather than the intense brown he had found shelter in so many times throughout the past few months. “Don’t... not that, please.”

“Ooooh, yes, _that_ ,” Alex growled. “I’ll decide what we’ll talk about. You don’t get to call the shots tonight, _love_.” He added the term of endearment in a mocking tone, then a smile to match, before he spoke again. “You were all over the newspapers, you know? ‘NYPD catches child kidnapper after month-long manhunt’. Of course, once you read the article with that headline, you find out that the news isn’t all smiles and happy endings, because the police operation leaves ‘both victims tragically shot by Murphy minutes before the police entered the building’.”

“Stop,” Miles said softly, defeated as his eyelashes fluttered to fight the tears.

With a pout, Alex stared at Miles, sitting up again and crossing his arms over his chest. “Still too much for you knowing that maybe, just _maybe_ , you could’ve saved the day? If only you’d been wearing your police vest, right?” Alex chuckled. “God, I must admit that shocked me, Miles. They never mentioned _that_ in the news. You did stand out, though. For another reason, maybe, but you did. Wanna know?” Alex offered him a smile and a little shake of his head.

“Stop,” Miles repeated. “Don’t—”

“How you held yourself in the press,” Alex interrupted. “God, Homme was all big promises and pride, practically soaring with the success his department had booked. But you… you were so calm, and collected. Honest about your feelings. Apologetic, for reasons I couldn’t place until you informed me of your mistake that day.” Alex paused with a sigh. “Until, of course, you got that tiny bit of media training from Homme. Then you turned into his little parrot, repeating his every word. That’s when I started wondering about you. Another aspect of psychology, I suppose. Or maybe it’s entirely the same. What makes someone make certain decisions, yeah?” Alex asked, nodding to himself despite not getting any response from Miles at all.

The man in question felt numb all over. His arms and legs ached, being strapped to the chair as they were, and Alex’s betrayal, Alex’s words, Alex’s motives… they hit him, cut him open from the inside.

“Miiiii,” Alex sang. “Are you still with me?”

His palm hit Miles’ cheek in a series of short slaps, and on autopilot, Miles nodded, his face scrunching up when Alex’s hand clutched his jaw, making him look back at him. Miles’ entire body jerked involuntarily, the sensation combined with the sting of Alex’s fingernails digging into his flesh making him wince.

“You asked me why I came here, this is why. I had to meet you. I wanted to know how close I could get to you. How long it would take you to figure out the killer was right. Under. Your. Nose. In your office, in your bed, in your head. Mysterious, confident Alex, slowly drawing you into his world." Alex let Miles’ jaw go with a flick of the wrist. "Is he in your heart, Miles? Hmm? Is he?"

"You _bastard_ ," Miles hissed weakly. He couldn't believe he let himself get lured in like this. A parasite, right by his side all this time.

“I know, baby,” Alex pouted. “It's a lot to take in.”

He paused.

“And I’m not even done with you yet.”

\--

“Miles!” Jamie’s fist hit the door of Miles’ apartment repeatedly as he called out for his colleague. “Please, still be here,” he muttered.

After that, it was eerily quiet, save for the music being played from an apartment somewhere down the hall. Jamie pushed his hand through his hair, contemplating his options.

He could break down the door, but he wasn’t sure what he’d find inside. What if Alex held Miles hostage in his own apartment? Making a move could turn out for the worse. After all, there was nothing more dangerous, or unpredictable, then a cornered animal.

Or maybe Alex had long fled the scene.

The thought of finding Miles strangled to death by someone he had clearly trusted suddenly invaded his mind. It was a possibility, and the mere idea made Jamie’s gut turn. He gagged, breath ragged as he shook his head, trying to shake the image from his mind with it.

He forced himself to get a hold of himself and start thinking instead of panicking. And like clockwork, a thought struck him:

The spare key to Miles’ apartment. The one Miles had given to him when they worked the Murphy case together.

Jamie leaned against the wall as he rummaged through his coat pocket, until he felt the small, owl hanging from his keyring. Fishing it from his pocket, and located the key to Miles’ apartment and pushed it in the lock. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his gun from its holster, holding it up as he turned the key. With a small metal click, the door opened.

“Miles, you here? It’s me, it’s Jamie,” he announced, pushing the door open slowly. “Alex!” Sticking his head around the door he peeked inside, finding no one in sight. “Listen up!” He yelled, stepping inside and closing the door behind him, gun still raised. “If there’s anyone in here you better come out. I’m armed. Don’t try anything stupid.”

After careful further inspection, Jamie found the apartment empty. With a sigh, he pocketed his gun. He had no idea where the two men could be, but concluded that this was probably the last place they’d been before they left, busy with solving the case.

Evidently, if Alex wanted to harm Miles, he hadn’t done it here, in Miles’ apartment, and thinking about it, that made sense to Jamie. Alex liked to show off, so murdering someone in the peace and quiet of their own apartment didn’t fit his M.O. Miles was most likely the reason he was in New York, so this would serve as his grand finale; he’d want to make it big. Alex would need Miles to go somewhere with him, and to succeed in doing so he needed Miles’ to think it was related to their case.

_Where would they keep their paperwork regarding the case?_

Jamie padded back to the front door. He had to retrace his steps, attempt to find notes, photo, anything close to a clue as to where Alex would go.

He rummaged through Miles’ mail that was on a small table next to the door, then moved to the bedroom when he found nothing that stood out for him. There, he searched the drawers of the nightstand, searched the closet, looked under the bed…nothing. Next, he stepped into the kitchen. He noticed a tea mug standing on the counter he hadn’t noticed before. He lifted it, finding it empty. After putting it down, he cupped his hands around the kettle standing next to the empty cup, noting it was lukewarm.

_They left not long ago._

Knowing he could catch up with them if he just knew where they went, he picked up his pace, walking into the living room. He noticed another cup, empty as well, save for the teaspoon, and a black marker on the couch, the cap missing. Jamie frowned, looking around for the small piece of plastic. Eventually, he found it on the carpet, next to the table. It was strangely, perfectly aligned. Certainly, it hadn’t fallen like _that_. Getting down on his knees, Jamie inspected the cap of the marker, finding it pointed exactly to a rolled up piece of paper under the table.

“What the…”

Jamie’s hand reached out, pulling it from under the wood. It gave in, and soon Jamie sat cross-legged on the floor, paper in his lap. It turned out to be much bigger than he initially thought, and when he rolled it open, he immediately recognized Alex’s angular, all-capitals handwriting. With a frown, he turned the paper around so he could actually read it, but taking one look at the line at the bottom of the paper was enough: this was their murder board.

Jamie laid the paper out on the table. Of course he knew this murder board, and this was almost an exact copy of the one at the precinct. Instead, he focussed on what new information had been written. Soon, he realized neither Miles or Alex had written down new information that seemed important in this moment. What did stand out, though, was that two words had been circled a couple of times.

‘WAREHOUSE DISTRICT.’

And just like that, Jamie knew where to go.

\--

Miles’ mouth was incredibly dry, his eyelids felt heavy, and he’d lost every sense of time. Nearly motionless, Miles stared at Alex. The man did nothing but stare back, seemingly amused at the state of his target, but with a certain look in his eyes. Miles coughed, and then chuckled wryly thinking of how he might die from dehydration before Alex could have a pass at him. God, that would piss him off.

Where his body was slowly giving up the fight, his mind was far from giving in, still trying to puzzle everything together. In the past few hours, Miles felt like he had replayed every significant second from the past few weeks. A few things didn’t add up in his mind, and he figured that if he was going to die here, he might as well die knowing the truth. His mind went back to the first and second murder—

“How did you do that?” Miles croaked out.

“I knew you’d eventually start asking questions… It’s alright, it’s your police brain, I just…didn’t quite catch that, love.”

Miles frowned at the nickname as he cleared his throat. “Those first two murders. You were in L.A. when that happened, how did you do that?”

Was I?” Alex flashed him a smile. “Or did you just assume I was because I told you I had gotten on a plane the day before I arrived in New York?”

“You were here all along,” Miles sighed. “Of course you were here all along.”

“Captain Jung thought I was doing some investigating out of town. Poor bastard is swamped with work, doesn’t even know where half of his detectives are, or what cases they’re working,” Alex scoffed. “Or when they’re flying off to New York.” He watched as Miles turned his face away, eyes darting towards the floor. “Don’t be upset with yourself, detective. You couldn’t know. You didn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle of my plan.”

“Yeah, was Jane part of that plan?” Miles scoffed, turning his head and casting his eyes forward again. “Got quite messy, didn’t you? Blunt force trauma to the head, not really your M.O.”

Alex made a sound of surprise. “Good eye. Though that wasn’t what killed her I appreciate the observation.”

“Can’t take credit for Nick’s work,” Miles hissed. “Tell me, was she?”

“No,” Alex confessed. “No, I planned Dan Carve to be different from my usual murders, because it had to look like a suicide, of course, but Janey she…was collateral damage, really. Stopped by her home, Jamie had just sent me out to canvas the area when he _so_ needed to have drinks with his wife for their anniversary, and she was…she was snooping through my stuff, Miles. She found photographs of my…my conquests and I just,” Alex snapped his fingers, “snapped! You know?” Alex’s face was turning red with his effort, his eyes wide as he let out a strangled laugh. “She shouldn’t have done that!”

Miles felt the colour drain from his face as he watched Alex slowly losing his composure.

“Put up one hell of a fight, I’ll give her that. Called me names, hit me, scratched me, bit me. Still have a bruise on my thigh, I’m sure you noticed.” Alex stared at  Miles, awaiting a response. When Miles said nothing, he continued, “That’s where the blunt force trauma came in, had her quiet for a while. That was, until I began killing her.” Alex’s hands made the gesture to match, until he balled his hands to fists in his enthusiasm. “She begged me, they always do, Miles, that’s not the point. The thing is, I think she truly believed her begging would make me stop. She didn’t think I was gonna do it—”

“You’re a psychopath…”

Alex paused with a frown. His hands were still in the air, and he slowly lowered his fists until they rested by his side. “What did you say?”

All at once he lurched forward, slender digits wrapping around Miles’ neck. All Miles could do was let out a startled yelp, before Alex’s hands squeezed hard, his thumbs pressing into the hollow of Miles’ throat and taking his breath. Miles’ body tensed against its restraints, hands flexing, nostrils faring as he attempted to gasp for breath.

“Don’t call me that!” Alex screamed. “Don’t fucking call me that! ”

Miles found Alex’s face so close he could notice the frantic twitching of his eyes and the sweat beading above his eyebrows. His pulse was racing under Alex’s palms, and Miles felt how those hands tightened their grip, his ears beginning to pound. As he gulped and gagged, his eyes rolled back, then slowly closed off their own accord while he felt himself slip closer and closer to unconsciousness.

_This was it. This is how I die._

\--

There was one warehouse in particular Miles and Alex had investigated, Jamie remembered. The one where Miles’ had gotten shot by one of Roman’s employees. It wasn’t much, but it was more than just a hunch, and that was good enough for him. Alexa knew of his plans. He’d given her a brief call, informing her on his newfound discoveries, to which she promptly promised to send Matt his way once he came back to the precinct.

Now, Jamie was standing outside that building, desperately wishing he had Matt by his side right now. To ask advice, to calm his self-doubt, to talk some sense and courage into him. Miles wasn’t the only one still shaken from the Murphy case, and Jamie found himself hit with a strange sense of déjà-vu.

Matt wasn’t by his side, however, and it became clear to him that Miles’ life may be in his hands.

It was starting to get dark outside, which worried Jamie. The realization Miles had been at Alex mercy all day slimmed his chances of still being alive by the minute. He had to hurry up. Quickly, he pulled his gun from its holster, checking his ammo.

Two bullets. No mistakes allowed apparently.

Jamie cursed to himself, before clicking the gun back into place and entering the building.

_No mistakes allowed._

\--

Briefly, Miles did see all those things people describe you see when you die. Everything appeared brighter than it was, as if he was looking into the sun, but he saw it all clearly: His mother and grandmother at the butcher shop back in Liverpool, himself getting his diploma from the police academy, Jamie, Matt, Nick and Alexa laughing and drinking a beer at Shutterbugs, even Homme, clapping his shoulder and giving him the smallest of smiles. The corners of his mouth turned up, and he stopped fighting, the pain dulling—

And just like that, Alex let go of him with a push.

Miles sucked in a breath that sounded high-pitched, then wheezed and coughed. All the movement nearly made him fall backwards, chair tipping back a little. Tears dripped from his eyes as he blinked rapidly until he eventually closed his eyes again, fighting the blank spots that were forming. When he opened them again, Alex’s face was still red with anger.

“Don’t call me that ever again,” Alex growled, breath heavy as he pointing at Miles before smoothing his hair back, “or you’re pushing me to do something I don’t want to do.”

“Aren’t you gonna kill me?” Miles asked, voice still tight and breathy. “Or do you like edging as much in the bedroom as you do during your murders?” He raised an eyebrow before he coughed again and spat on the floor.

“Funny.” Alex cocked his jaw and chuckled. “No,” he replied, seemingly having gained his composure as his voice returned to normal. “Miles, I’m not going to kill you, what a ridiculous question.”

“Maybe I want you to,” came Miles’ immediate reply and admittedly, he surprised himself.

Alex seemed stunned as well, and then he laughed. “And _that_ , Miles, is exactly why I won’t. You only want out because you can’t stand the guilt of watching me walk away, and that is _exactly_ why you are still alive right now.” He paused. “You know, this wasn’t according to plan. It wasn’t supposed to end so soon. I meant what I said about staying here, Mi, but only so I could watch this tear you apart. Watch you as you tried to solve this case, _so_ frustrated about missing that _one_ puzzle piece you need, not knowing that it’s right by your side!”

“Why now then, huh?”

“Oh, Miles,” Alex smiled sweetly. “I thought you’d never ask. Jung called me this morning to tell me he sent a little tape over, a piece of evidence previously overlooked. Little did he know I hid it. Because with that tape, my secret is out.” Suddenly, Alex reached for his chair, putting it back down next to Miles. “I expect that Helders or Cook will decide to take a look at it, maybe let Alexa analyse it, so I left a little clue at your apartment as to where we went.” The dark haired man explained. “If they’re smart, they’ll find you here alive. If they’re not, well…they’ll have two bodies to deal with,” Alex shrugged. “Of course, I’ll be long gone—”

“Wouldn’t be so sure.” Behind Alex, Jamie emerged from the door opening, gun raised and pointed at Alex. “Hands where I can see them, asshole.”

With a smile, Alex raised his hands and turned around to face Jamie. “James, what a pleasant surprise. I knew you’d—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jamie spat. “I want you against the wall.”

Alex stared at Jamie, not moving until Jamie barked out a, “Now, Turner!” that made him spin on his heels and face the wall. Quickly, Alex glanced down at the lifeless body of the taxi driver by his feet as Jamie stepped closer to him, patting him down.

Once he found no weapons, he stepped towards Miles, all the while keeping his gun pointed at Alex. “You okay?” He asked, inspecting Miles for any wounds.

Miles heaved a sigh. “I admit I’ve felt better.”

Jamie smiled at him. “You’re okay. I’ve got ya.” He produced a knife from the inside of his jacket and cut the cable ties connecting Miles’ ankles to the chair’s legs.

Miles thankfully wiggled his feet, and in the split second he took his eyes off of Alex to look down, the man in question slid his hands from the wall and dove down towards the dead body at his feet.

“Jamie!” Miles’ voice echoed.

Jamie immediately turned, still down on one knee, pointing his gun at Alex. “I swear to God, Alex, don’t get any ideas. I won’t hesitate to take you down!”

With a grin, Alex retrieved his gun from under the taxi driver’s body, raising it and pointing it at Miles. He clicked his tongue. “Same,” he replied simply.

“He won’t shoot me, Jamie,” Miles hissed, bracing his feet against the floor. “He won’t. Shoot him.”

Alex flashed the two man an apologetic smile. “I have a plan to follow, so I’m not taking any chances.”

With that he raised his gun and fired. In a reflex, Jamie gave the bottom of Miles’ chair a push, making him fall backwards. Jamie himself landed face first against the floor. Miles screamed, feeling and hearing the bones in his hands crack behind his back. Alex’s bullet had cleverly hit the light hanging above his head, glass raining from the ceiling and onto Miles and Jamie. With one last flicker, the room went dark, safe for the strip of light coming from the door that led to the hall. Jamie took his chances, firing one bullet into Alex’s general direction. It hit the wall with a dull _pang!_ and Jamie cursed at his miss.

Miles vaguely registered the silhouette slipping towards the hall from the corner of his eye. Jamie had, too, and with his best effort, he aimed, and fired another shot.

_Bingo._

Alex screamed out, clutching his thigh, but limping out of the room, still. Miles then heard feet scraping against the floor, and panting, followed by the calling of his name. He realized Jamie was crawling towards him, though he was barely able to make out his face.

“Fuck, Miles, I’m so so—”

“I’m fine,” Miles groaned. “I’m okay. Broken fingers, broken wrist at worst. Just go after him.”

“I can’t leave you here—”

“Jamie!” Miles exclaimed. “Fucks sake! Go!”

“Shit, fine, alright!” Jamie struggled to stand up as glass was still littering the floor, but managed to get upright. “Matt knows you’re here. So does Lex… someone’s coming for you, just hold on.” With that, Jamie rushed towards the door.

When the words left Jamie’s lips, though, Miles already felt himself slip away.

\--

Matt eventually found Miles like that, unconscious, bleeding, dehydrated. In less than five minutes, the place was crowded with police officers, investigating every finger print, every hair, every _viber_ Alex may have left there while uniforms, led by Jamie, were out searching every street, corner and alley in New York City.

Once Miles came to, a medic attended to his injuries, under loud protest of Miles, who wanted nothing more than to make himself useful. She insisted on taking Miles to the hospital. Miles insisted that, if he wasn’t allowed to help, he wanted to wait for news right where he was.

That’s how he came to be where he was now. In an ambulance, legs swung over the edge in the back so they scraped over the pavement. He had a blanket draped over his shoulders and Matt seated next to him. They didn’t speak much. Matt merely placed his palm on Miles’ thigh, murmured a “It’s gonna be okay,” and gave him a small smile.

After a few minutes, Matt’s ringtone broke the silence.

“Helders,” he murmured. “What do you mean—” Matt ‘s eyes darting towards Miles briefly as he stood up and stepped away. “What do you mean ‘you don’t have him’? We had the building surrounded, we have every officer in New York out to find him, I don’t suppose he just disappeared into thin air, did he?” The brunette shuffled with his feet, kicking at some dirt on the ground as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. “We have a face and a name, and he’s injured. I want an officer in every goddamn hospital in the state. Yes, I understand that—  Yes, I fucking know what we’re dealing with! You know what? Just call me back when you have news.”

Angered, the detective pocketed his phone before turning back to Miles. It scared Matt, the way the man was curled up, blank expression on his face; he looked like a lost little boy. Matt approached his colleague slowly, a hand landing on Miles’ shoulder once he had reached him. That snapped Miles out of his trance, eyes finding Matt’s, his gaze just as blank.

“Miles, are you—”

“They didn’t find him, did they?”

Matt sighed, sitting down next to Miles. “Not yet, no.”

“He wanted it this way, you know?” Miles droned. “He wants me to suffer. Rub in that he was right under my nose the whole time, but that I was too busy being lost in his presence to notice it.” The wry chuckle that followed quickly turned to a cough. “That’s why he let me live,” he croaked afterwards.

“Is that what he told you?” Matt asked.

“Does it matter?”

Matt sighed. “He likes to play mind games, Miles. Surely you know that by now.”

“’course I do, but the situation remains the same. A psychopathic killer infiltrated our precinct as my _partner_ and not _once_ did I suspect him, Matt! Not once—” His voice broke, and he quickly wiped at his cheeks. “What does that say about my abilities to be…objective? To be a good detective?”

“Having emotions doesn’t make you a bad detective, Miles,” Matt reasoned. “Makes you human. Everyone can make mistakes, and given the situation I think no one can blame you for what happened. Alex’s he’s… highly intelligent, knows the police system inside and out… To have someone tear down not only your investigation but also your personal life in the way he did… There’s no way you could’ve know.”

Miles sniffed and shrugged. “I guess.”

Matt put an arm around his colleague, pulling him against his side. “It’s over, Miles. They might not find him today, but they will.”

Miles, exhausted, freezing and emotionally drained allowed his head to fall onto Matt’s shoulder.

And briefly, he believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, which is an epilogue, is coming right up!!


	12. Epilogue

_Eight months later_

 

 

Miles’ fingers twitched, making the pen clutched between his fingers shake as he did. The pen clattered down next to the paper when Miles let it slip from between his digits. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and brought the hand up to rub over his fingers. With seven broken fingers in your medical history, you were bound to end up with a bit of cramp every now and again.

Previous to that, he’d already been at war with his own mind, and sadly, that hadn’t changed. If anything, it got worse. Voices usually swirled through his head, those of strangers, from board hearings…

_Mr. Kane, what was the nature of your relationship with Mr. Turner?_

_Mr. Kane, was there ever any indication Mr. Turner seemed responsible for this?_

_Was there **any** moment you suspected Mr. Turner?_

…or his friends and family.

_Miles, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you._

_Miles, are you sure you don’t want to come back home?_

_Miles, are you sure this new position is a good idea?_

But strangely, it was quiet.

He turned a few pages in the file in front of him and began reading the entries from last month,

‘September 6,  
Roman was found dead in a bathroom stall in Hysteria, at 4:08am. Manual strangulation. No prints, no evidence, _definitely_  Turner’s M.O.’

_“He’s mine, even though he doesn’t know it… He won’t know what’s coming.”_

‘September 17,  
Sweden. Helena Johansson, 25-year-old school teacher. Victim #2, New York was also a school teacher. Connection?’

‘September 21,  
Norway. Andrea Lundberg, 29-year-old lawyer. Victim #1, New York was also a lawyer. He wants me to know it’s him.’

Miles sighed, biting his lip and bringing the pen down to paper again. It seemed to be moving off its own accord, the black ink filling out the spaced between the light blue lines on the paper. ‘No known activity in the past month.’ He searched through his small notebook with phone numbers until he found the one he was looking for. He scribbled it down, followed by, ‘Call Grunn in Helsinki for possible intel.’

After a few minutes, he had to stop again, massaging his fingers as he leaned back in his black leather office chair. Mind adrift, he turned his head towards the window, smiling at the New York skyline. Despite all that had happened, he still loved New York.

 “Captain?”

Miles’ head swung towards the door as he scrambled to push the papers on his desk to the side. He threw a large binder on top of it to cover them. He cleared his throat, tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, then said, “Come in.”

Matt stuck his head around the office door. “Hi, need your autograph on this report,” he informed as he stepped in, letting the papers fall from his hands when he reached Miles’ desk.

“Sure,” Miles nodded, flipping to the last page. He signed the paper, putting a dot behind the ‘e’ in ‘Kane’ rather dramatically. “There you go.” He handed Matt the paper back. “Nice job, Helders.”

Matt gave him a lopsided smile. “Couldn’t have done it without Alexa, honestly.”

“She’s doing well, isn’t she?” Miles asked, rearranging a few things on his desk.

“She is,” Matt nodded. “A natural. If only we could find someone as great as her for her old job…”

Miles laughed. “Give it time, a good candidate will send us an application.”

Matt laughed along, but once the sound died down, it got quiet in the office.

“Right!” Miles exclaimed. “Sorry, I’m still getting used to this whole captain-thing. You’re dismissed, Matthew.”

“A-Actually, Miles?”

Miles head snapped up. “Yes?”

“I…” The detective bit his lip before continuing. “I’m glad you’re well. I think this position is a good one for you. No more field work so you can really excel at…” he made a gesture towards Miles’ desk and smiled faintly.

“Paperwork?” Miles asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

“No!” Matt exclaimed. “No, I didn’t mean—”

“Hey, Matt, relax. I understand,” Miles chuckled.

“I’m glad you were able to let it go. I know that wasn’t easy for you, with Murphy. I’m glad to see you at peace, finally. You deserve that.”

“Thank you, Helders,” Miles said softly, the slightest of frowns on his face.

_I’m sorry, Matt._

“No problem.” Matt offered him a small smile in return. “Don’t forget Shutterbugs tonight, okay? We’re gonna celebrate yours and Alexa’s promotions. Eight, don’t be late, captain,” he reminded Miles.

When Miles assured him he wouldn’t forget, Matt shuffled out the door, signed papers in hand. With a soft thud, de door closed behind him.

Immediately, he lifted his binder, going back to his own, secret project. He’d get to the bottom of this, no matter how long it took him.

“Where are you hidin’, Al?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, finally, this is the end. Or, well…as you may have noticed, I left it a little open. In case Alex ever wants to make an extravagant comeback. No promises, though. I hear Scandinavia is quite beautiful.
> 
> I want to take the time to thank everyone who had read this story. No matter if you’ve been with me on this adventure from the beginning, or recently strapped in to come along, I appreciate every comment, every kudos, every message, words of encouragement; everything. I’ve never finished a story. Ever. Let alone one in English. Finishing this one made me feel very good about myself as a writer. It may not be perfect, but I’m proud of the result. I couldn’t have done it without everyone who has supported me throughout this writing process. I love each and every one of you. Thank you very much x

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Please let me know what you thought. You can also find me on [Tumblr](http://horrormoviesshoes.tumblr.com/), if you want to drop by!


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